The State of Denial and Delusions
by Lady Silence
Summary: Post Season 1 finale. A true sign of the apocalypse, a MarySue is forced into the Winchesters' lives against everyone's will. No one is happy about this. No one.
1. Paranoid

Title: The State of Denial and Delusions  
Author: Silence  
Fandom: Supernatural and Ohmygod! A Mary-Sue!  
Rating: Brought to you by the letters M, or as I used to remember, R. (for language and anything else I feel like)  
Pairing: I seriously doubt there will be one. Unless it's someone and their car. Car love is true.  
Spoilers: Season 1 finale of Supernatural and spoilers for virtually every other fandom I mention. Not too mention my previous fics.  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the WB and far more talented people than me. But goddess I wish I did own them. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.  
Summary: The Winchesters should never have gone to the state of Missouri. In fact, no one should. You pick up bad things in that state. And nothing is worse than a Mary Sue.  
Notes: While it's helpful to read the previous fics that Lacey has appeared in, it's not necessary if you don't care about random ramblings of the Bitter Sue. But she'll be random even if you did read the others.

Unless otherwise noted, this will be from the point of view of the resident Bitter Sue. I alternate for certain chapters. Sorry. I do what the whiny little Muse in my head demands.

Previous Fics to this: (Both can be found here)  
Confessions of a Mary Sue  
The Goddess Must Be Crazy

* * *

**Part 1: Paranoid**

It was a dark and stormy night…

No it wasn't, but that was how all good stories start, wasn't it? Wait. This wasn't a good story. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a Mary-Sue story. A Mary-Sue story that will no doubt teach you lessons you never realized you needed to learn.

I'm Lacey and I'm your resident bitter and very peeved Mary-Sue. I'm also the woman currently sipping a cup of coffee in an emergency room while waiting on word about a certain Dean Winchester.

No, I didn't claim to be his fiancée or some bullshit. I didn't have to. Sam was bruised, cut, and sprained, but he was all bandaged up and waiting with me. Only he kept shooting me strange looks. Joy.

Since we're all playing the waiting game, I guess I should explain how this mess started.

* * *

Once upon a time, in a place I like to call 'normal Earth', there lived a young woman in the state of Missouri. She was, for all intents and purposes, a fangirl that slaved her days away in a Pizza Hut. She wasn't super special. She wasn't super smart. She wasn't even extraordinarily pretty. She just had long black hair that she was proud of, sometimes she had a pale complexion from being indoors too often, and a nose she just wasn't pleased with. She also had a bunch of fandoms that she enjoyed. 

One day, she ended up in Middle Earth. Another day, she ended up in a combined Harry Potter and Buffy the Vampire Slayer mesh-verse. She helped save the day from Perfect Mary-Sues and was then returned home with nothing but memories of the events, a phoenix ring, and some possible mental scars.

As always with her twisted life, these events of Suedom always started on her night off. This was no different.

Still with me? Because if you are, why? I can't be that entertaining for you.

So there I was, minding my own business and washing dishes in the kitchen when the phone rang. I sighed and picked up a dish towel to dry my hands before I grabbed the cordless phone. I pressed the talk button and greeted the poor sucker on the line with an annoyed, "What?"

I was greeted by static and a strange hissing sound. The lights in my home began flickering like something out of a bad horror movie. And if there was something I knew, it was bad horror movies. I pressed the off button on the phone, only to keep hearing the static from it. I scowled at it just as a sound ripped through the receiver. It was the sound of a door being broken down. Hey, it sounded like the ones they used in horror movies. Of course I'd recognize it.

My eyes grew wide and I nearly dropped the phone as something began pounding on my front door. The sound worsened on the phone. For a moment I thought I hadn't turned the phone off, so I opened my mouth to ask if it was a fucking joke..

"_Is this some kind of fucking joke?"_

That was my voice on the other end. Mine. What the fuck was going on? The sound of wood being shattered caught my attention from my living room and a blood curdling scream escaped the phone. Without another look back, I dropped the phone, grabbed my car keys and bag that I'd left on the counter after I'd come home earlier, and bolted from my little duplex.

I could hear the sound of heavy footsteps pounding through my house as I started my car. It was 2003 Jeep Liberty. Used, but it cost me. It was needed ever since.. Well, that wasn't the point now.

Getting away. That was the point.

As soon as I peeled out of the driveway, I looked into the rearview mirror to see a looming figure illuminating my kitchen doorway. My breath caught in my chest and the figure faded from sight.

But I didn't stop driving. Oh, no. I kept going. You could call me the damn Energizer Bunny for how long I drove. It felt like hours. Of course, instead of thinking about what to do, I was busy thinking about how much the gas refill was going to cost me.

In other words, I let my guard down and thought I was safe. I obviously thought wrong as a hand reached for me from the backseat. I let out a scream and turned the wheel sharply. You could hear the tires squealing on the pavement and I slammed on the breaks. My head smacked into the steering wheel and the last thing I felt was a familiar wave of heat go through me. It happened every time I ever ended up being a damn Mary-Sue somewhere. You'd think I'd have learned to take that fucking phoenix ring off by now. I knew I was at a crossroads. Death by a strange creature that probably shouldn't exist or life as a Mary-Sue again.

I really hoped I would end up dead.

* * *

The sound of a large semi truck driving by was my alarm clock. My head hurt like hell as I raised myself off the steering wheel. I looked up into the mirror and saw a small trickle of blood on my forehead. "Damn." I wiped it away as best I could and that was when I heard it. 

Music. It was faint and it sounded like classic 80s rock. I looked around and the semi I heard was gone, but sitting in a heap was a broken car that was still smoking.

I had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach about what car that was and just what fandom I was in now. But did it stop me from getting out of my car?

Of course not. Apparently all my common sense died back in Helm's Deep. Or possibly high school. Both were pretty hellish. It was a toss up.

It was dark, but my headlights were on. I made sure to grab my cell phone from my bag and slid it into one of my pockets. I walked quickly, fear and dread filling me with every step. God, please.. if you loved me, I begged internally, don't let me be here. Not now.

God didn't love me.

The ruined car was a black Chevy Impala and in the car were the one and only Winchester boys. Their dad was no where in sight. I whimpered as pulled my phone back out. I called 911 and gave them the location as best I could while I made my way to the driver's side. After they confirmed they were on their way, I reached through the open window to turn the ignition off. We didn't need the thing to explode, did we?

A hand clamped onto my wrist with more strength then you'd think after a crash like that. "Who are you?" His voice was raspy, but Sam Winchester was very lucid.

There were many ways to answer that, Sam. I could be your doom. I could be your savior. I could be your long lost reincarnated whatever. You never really knew with this curse.

"Just someone passing through." I replied. It was pretty honest. That was something I learned quickly. I was always in these situations for a reason and I always returned home in the end.

The answer must have satisfied him for now, because Sam's grip loosened. We managed to get the car door open and he stumbled out and fell to his knees. "Dean…"

I glanced into the backseat and winced. God, I hated blood. Dean was laying there, his eyes closed. He looked so bloody and broken. A far cry from the Mister Snarky Cool Hero Guy in the show. "I don't think we should move him. But give me a min--"

Sirens in the distance interrupted my comment and I felt a wave of relief. Good. They'd handle it. The professionals would fix it.

They'd also tow the car and probably remove everything in it. I was going to mention it to Sam, when he slid to the pavement. That boy was out.

Damn damn damn.

I bit down hard on my lower lip and snatched the keys from the ignition. Laying on the floor of the front seat was a book. It looked like that book, the Key of Solomon, so grabbed it and the bloodied book I recognized as John's journal.

The colt. Where was the colt? I knew there was no way for me to get all their gear out, but the colt was important. That was key.

I didn't see it anywhere in the wreckage of the car. Maybe.. I rushed over to Sam to check him. Sure enough, he had the colt on him. Naturally, I stole it. I fully intended to give it back. But that was for later. I took all the items I'd rescued and ran as fast as I could to my car. I stashed all of my 'borrowed' goods under one of the seats. The sirens grew louder and I ran back to the Impala in time to greet the paramedics.

I even got questioned on what happened. That was fun in the not really kind of way.

I could end the story with me driving away with the loot, but then that wouldn't be much of a story. It certainly wouldn't be fair to the boys and it wouldn't really say much about my character. If I had any. But it didn't matter, since I didn't do that anyway. Instead, I ended up at the hospital. I got myself checked out because of my stupid scratch on my head, not like I've gotten worse, and I stuck around to make sure the Winchester duo were alright. I had to return the stuff I salvaged, right?

Sam came out of things pretty quickly. They had him bandaged and sutured up in no time, but I wasn't really paying much attention to him. I was busy staring through one of the windows of one of the trauma rooms, where his brother was being tended to.

It didn't look good.

"What's going on?" Sam asked me, and you could tell he was dreading the answer. Couldn't he have asked a doctor? Or nurse? Why me?

"From what I could get from the snippets I caught, he's lost a lot of blood." I didn't take my eyes off the action beyond the glass. "There's some internal injuries and I'm betting a concussion of some kind. You'll have to ask the docs for info."

"There was someone else with us-" He started to ask about his dad. I knew he would.

I stopped him and shook my head. "I only found you and him. There wasn't anyone else in the car."

Sam's reflection in the glass went from worried, to angry, to what I think might have been a bit of despair. "That's not-"

"I saw the semi leave." I said quietly. I didn't add what I was thinking. Either Daddy Winchester survived and the demon was going to use him for leverage, or their dad was a meat suit for the demon or a flunkie of his. I guess I could have mentioned my thoughts, but that would have brought up questions I wasn't ready to get into right now.

We'd have time for that later. "I need coffee. You need coffee. I'll be right back." I left him standing there as I went in search of the nearest coffee machine.

Welcome to Missouri, Winchesters. We aren't the Show-Me State. We're the State of Denial and Delusions.

Enjoy your stay.


	2. Runaway

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the WB and far more talented people than me. But goddess I wish I did own them. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

* * *

**Part 2: Runaway**

I've learned a lot of things over the past few years. Never take life for granted. (Not that I listened to that one.) No one expects the Spanish Inquisition. The jukebox at Pizza Hut will play the same song once every hour if no one picks a playlist. Pizza Hut is evil. Legos are freaking cool. Stay in shape, because you never know when you'll have to run for days in the sun while trailing after missing friends. Hogwarts robes are awesome. Plumbing is the best thing ever invented. Last but not least, get sleep whenever and however you can.

I was curled up in a chair in one of the waiting areas of the floor they were now keeping Dean. I hadn't met him yet. But according to Sam, he did come out of surgery fine. The little brother hadn't let the big brother out of his sight since.

No, I didn't leave yet. But I was waking up again. I could have gone to a motel, but I only had about fifty bucks in cash on me and I wasn't actually sure if any of my credit cards worked here. So waiting room armchairs it was. For some reason, no one bothered me.

That was never a good sign.

I stood up with a weary stretch and noticed that my coffee cup was empty. Meh. I picked up the cup and tossed it in the nearest trash bin. I was sick of coffee anyway. If I remembered correctly, there was a soda machine nearby. I could handle that. A carbonated breakfast sounded pretty good actually. I wandered over to where I'd seen it and was soon blessed by the sight of carbonated sugar. After I got myself an orange soda to substitute orange juice, I peered at the vending machine. I could use candy too. I was just about to buy myself a bag of Skittles when the pay phone next to me rang to life.

I covered my mouth to stifle the startled cry I had almost let out. Stupid pay phone. I got my Skittles. One had to have some kind fruity like substance for the food group thing, right?

I tried to ignore the damn thing as it kept ringing. Why the hell didn't anyone answer it? With a soft growl, I finally yanked the receiver off its cradle as I pocketed my bag of candy. "Hello?"

What I heard was a child's voice. _"Swing.. Chop.. Your head on a block…"_

Oh, I so wasn't in the mood for this shit. "Listen up, you freak. I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing, but this is a hos-"

The voice giggled. _"Don't you like my song, Lacey? It was made for you."_

My eyes went wide and I slammed the phone back down. When they knew your name, it was _never _a good thing. I took a deep breath and the phone rang again. My left hand clutched my soda bottle tightly. Don't answer. Don't answer.. Fuck.

I picked it up again. "Who is this?"

"_Come to the window…"_

The window was only three steps away. I could go over without hanging up the phone. But did I want to? Damn my curiosity. It overruled my common sense again. I stepped in front of the window and found myself looking down at the parking lot. A small figure stood in the middle of the lot. I couldn't tell if it was male or female, but I had a feeling it didn't matter. It waved at me and I took a step back.

"_Don't you want to sing with us?"_

I would have asked if they wanted me to sing a little Sinatra or Dixie Chicks, not that I knew any actual lyrics from either, but before I could, a new voice came onto the phone.

"_Oh, God! What are you doing!"_ It was my voice I could hear. My grip tightened on the phone as I grew pale. There was a scream and I could hear the sound of something wet splattering to the ground. Suddenly, I could smell the rotting flesh instead of the sterile environment of the hospital. _"Please! Stop!"_

There was a final scream as I recognized the sound of a gunshot. The phone went dead. The phone slid out of my now lifeless grip and I barely noticed it clatter to the floor. My eyes were locked on to the small figure skipping in the parking lot as a car drove right through it as if they didn't exist.

Why the hell was I here? To die? To-

"Hey, are you alright?"

I was too far gone to be startled at this point and merely shrugged weakly. "Peachy." I looked over at Sam who seemed concerned, but you could tell he was on guard for any trouble I might actually be.

Oh, honey child, that poor boy had no idea of what kind of trouble I brought.

I took a calming breath and put the phone back in its place. "What is it?"

"Dean wants to meet you."

I quirked an eyebrow upward. "And he wants to.. Why?"

Sam offered the faintest trace of a smile. "Maybe we want to thank you."

"Right.. Whatever. Lead on, kiddo." I strode past him, giving the window a quick glance. The figure was gone.

"You did not just call me kiddo." Sam insisted as he caught up to me.

"Of course I did. I have to call you something." I smiled sweetly. My wit wasn't up to par yet. That damn call had frayed my nerves more than I had thought.

He rolled his eyes. "How about Sam?"

"Because there's no fun in that." I rubbed the back of my neck. "I could call you Crash Carrigan, but I doubt you'd get the reference." In fact, I was pretty sure that no one would. "How is he anyway?"

"We'll be out of here in a week if we're lucky." Sam was watching me. Studying me. He probably thought I was possessed or something.

"Not in that car. Did you get a look at it?" I shook my head. "Your car is all smooshed. It would need a new frame, new everything. It would probably be cheaper to buy a new car. Well, a new used car."

Sam didn't say anything to that. Maybe it got him thinking about how close of a call it was. Maybe he was thinking about his dad. Or maybe he was thinking about how Dean would react to the loss of the Metallicar.

I said it. Metallicar. We all knew what it was. Not an Impala. Metallicar. Who in the hell started that anyway? I'd like meet them in person and say thank you. It sounded great when I wailed dramatically about it after watching the season finale.

Sam was looking at me expectantly. He was next to an open door of a hospital room. "Well?"

"Huh?" Smooth, Lacey. "Did you say something?"

"I just said, ladies first." He nodded toward the door. Ooh. Little Winchester was getting serious.

As I walked into the room, I felt as if I were in the principle's office. I half expected to be given a Saturday detention. Who actually gets a Saturday detention any way? Anyone? Bueller?

The door shut behind Sam and I felt a heaviness fill the room. Oh lord. It was going to be one of those moments. I held my head up high and folded my arms across my chest to match the stare that Dean was giving me.

It was one of those soldier-esque kind of looks he had. You know, the ones that mean business. Demon going down. Gotta save Sam.

I think this one said, 'Slay the Sue.'

"Where is it?" Dean asked. How the hell did he manage to sound threatening from a damn hospital bed? He was glowering at me and I could feel Sam possibly mimicking him at my back.

I could have played dumb. I could have flat out lied. "It's in my car." I held my ground. "I didn't think it would look good if they found Sam here with a gun in his pants." I glanced at Sam with a look of disbelief. "And really, in your pants? What the hell were you thinking? You could shoot off something.. Er.. and that is not comi.. Not sounding right at all." I groaned and closed my eyes. "I'm shutting up now."

"I'm not going near that line of thought, thanks." Sam muttered. Much to his chagrin, I heard a slightly amused chuckle from Dean.

Maybe they wouldn't kill me. "Look," I began again, "I'll give it back to you as soon as I know you guys are alright. It's not as if I were going to keep it." Although that would be one hell of a souvenir. Hey, I got a ring from Middle Earth, a robe from Hogwarts, and a stake from Buffy. At least I never left these damn situations empty handed.

Dean was still glaring at me. Damn it. "Good. You're going to take Sam and get it right now."

"What?" Geez. Bossy much? "So he can just stuff it down his pants while he waits around here for you to stop using a bedpan?"

"Hey! I'm not using a.." Dean was getting annoyed now. "What the hell is your problem?"

My problem? My problem was that you weren't using common sense. "Hello, Mr. Wounded Prey, there is a thing called security here. Walking around with a loaded colt in your pants is a way to get arrested. Whether it's for sexual harassment or a concealed weapon charge is completely up for grabs though."

"Why do you care?" Sam asked. "Who are you anyway?"

"What, _now_, you ask my name?" I threw my hands up in the air. For a couple of skilled hunters, they were just kind of slow today.

Oh god. What if that was because of me. The Mary-Sue effect could already be tainting them. Dear god.

"We've been a little busy what with almost dying and all." Dean snapped at me.

Oh yeah. That could be a reason too.

"I'm Lacey." I said with a shrug.

"That's it?" Sam asked. "Just Lacey?"

"Isn't it enough?" What, they want to get hypocritical about names when they use bikini inspector ids? "I got you guys here."

"Yeah and we're real glad, grateful even, but who are you?" Sam just wouldn't drop it.

"Lacey…" I muttered my last name.

"What was that?" Dean asked, his eyes were confusing me. Actually, I think they were mocking me.

"… You heard me."

Dean shook his head, which made him wince. "No, I don't think I did."

Oh, you're all evil and I hate you. "Voorhees."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean started laughing at me. "You're kidding me, right?"

I wanted scream at him. "No! God. So I have a fictional serial killer's last name. Just.. Drop it. Ok? Fuck.. It's not that funny."

Sam was chuckling now. Oh great. My name is somehow shits and giggles for these two. "We're sorry. Really."

Liars. I hated them. I was so making Veronica Mars my favorite fandom again.

The phone next to Dean's bed rang and I stiffened.

"Who'd be calling here?" Dean looked at Sam.

Sam shrugged. "Could be a wrong number." He walked over and reached for the phone.

I wanted to open my mouth and tell him not to answer it. It was for me. I could feel it. I took a step back as Sam answered it.

"Hello?" Whatever it was that Sam heard, it made him frown. He shared a look with Dean, who arched his eyebrow. Sam's gaze fell onto me. "It's for you."

I could have bolted, but no. I stood my ground and stalked over to the phone. I snatched it from a confused Sam and nearly growled into the phone. "What?"

There was that giggle. _"Lacey.. Come play with us!"_

"I don't think you play the kind of games I like." I was aware that the Winchesters were watching me like hawks. But what could I do? "Besides, I don't know the rules."

"_That's easy. We win. We always win."_

"Gee, the incentive to play doesn't seem to be enough for me."

"_You're already playing." _The voice said in a sing song voice. _"Can't escape. Tick tock, the clock strikes five and only one can stay alive."_

I'd like to say that I had a witty reply in return, but instead I felt something wet and sticky on my hand. I held the phone away from me and dropped it when I saw the blood starting to seep out of it.

The phone sat on the floor in a puddle of blood. I just.. Stared at it.

"What the hell was that?"

I slowly looked toward the brothers and I knew they expected an answer.

What they got was me running away.

This was my problem. Not theirs.

So I ran.


	3. Call Me Crazy

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the WB and far more talented people than me. But goddess I wish I did own them. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

* * *

**Part 3: Call Me Crazy**

Maybe I was a coward for running. Maybe I was impulsive. Or maybe I was just trying to keep them from being drawn into the Mary-Sue web.

I sighed as I stared at the ceiling of my car. I was lying in the backseat, doors locked, everything off and clutching a small penguin plushie that usually sat on my dashboard.

I was also in the parking lot. Where that figure was.

Well, fuck.

But I still didn't move. No, no. Stay put. If the plushie were alive, I'm pretty sure I would have snapped its neck.

I shrieked when I heard a familiar lullaby ringtone on my phone. Dear sweet mother, why did I choose a ringtone from a horror movie involving cell phones? Why? I grabbed my phone from the floor, where it sat next to my black tote bag. I stared at it and the listing made my jaw drop. My voice barely squeaked out a greeting into it. "Mom?"

"_What in the world are you doing? I've been trying to call you all night. Your friend Rick went by your place to find the door broken down and you weren't there. Are you alright? What happened? Where are you?"_

How was this possible? This.. It had to be a trick. Right? "I'm at a hospital-"

"_WHAT? Are you hurt? Where? I told you, I hated that you lived in Jefferson City by yourself. You need to c-"_

I let out an exasperated sigh. This was real. It was too much of a headache not be. "Mom. I'm. Fine. I was just checking on some people in a car accident that I passed by. I called the paramedics and I've been sticking around since."

"_For God's sake, why?"_

"I was working on getting a merit badge." I muttered dryly. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"_What about your house? Someone broke in."_

"Don't ask me. I wasn't there." Liar. I was going to hell for lying to my mother. "Just file a report or something. You know what I have. You helped me decorate it."

"_Don't you take that attitude with me young lady." _Mom was pissed and on a roll. Fuck. I rolled my eyes and there was a tapping on my window.

Sam was staring at me on the other side of the glass.

God damn it. "Look, mom, I have to go. No, I can't-" I opened the car door for Sam's sake. "I know! _MOM_. I'm not.. Will you breathe please? If you keep ranting at me, I'm not the one who's going to be in need of a hospital. I have to go. Really. Love you." I took a deep breath and tried to finish the conversation as quickly as possible. "Can you call in work for me? Because I'm not going to make it since I'm not in town. Kay? Thanks. Bye." I clicked the phone off before my mother could start a new tangent. I'd try to figure out why she could reach me here later. I had to deal with Sam first.

He was staring at me as if I were wacko. Psh. That was a stare I got on a regular basis. I slid over on the seat to allow him room. If I was going to explain anything, I'd do it on my turf.

He sighed and hopped into my car, shutting the door behind him. "Are you going to explain what that was about?"

"What? That?" I played dumb. "That was my mother. She worries."

"You know what I'm talking about." He watched me as if trying to gauge my reaction. Damn it. I hated it when people did that. I squirmed in my seat and a profound thought must have come to him. "You were next to the payphone when I got you. This happened to you before."

"You won't believe me."

"Try me."

I decided to be halfway honest. No need to scare him with Mary-Sue tales. I explained everything that happened to me after I got that first call back at my house. As I told my stupid little story, it occurred to me that if you took the Mary-Sue factor out, it might have made a decent, if confusing, episode of Supernatural.

Well, crap. That wasn't cool.

"So basically, I'm pretty sure I'm destined to die a really bloody death, but at least I did a good deed on the way." I faked a big grin and gave him two thumbs up.

"We won't let you die." Sam assured me. "We'll figure out how to stop whatever it is. It's what my brother and I do."

I rolled my eyes and reached under the seat I was in. I pulled out a packed pillowcase, don't ask why I had one in my car, and offered it to him. He gave me a questioning look and I dropped it in his lap. "The stuff I saved from your car."

His eyes widened and he looked inside. Out came the colt, then the journal, and finally that Key of Solomon. "Why did you take these?"

"They looked neat." I shrugged. "And…" Think fast. "With the funky stuff I could see on them, I was kind of hoping I could use them to help me. Desperation makes a girl do wacky things."

Sam was about to hide the colt on his person when I tapped him on the shoulder and pointed up. His eyes followed my unspoken command and on the ceiling was that Devil's Trap sigil he had put on the trunk of the Impala.

I'm not an idiot. I even used a permanent marker. I wonder if I got it engraved on my car and then covered it with paint if it would still work. If it worked at all. "Your stuff will be safe in here, right? Because of that?"

He thought about it. "In theory, it should be. You read the book?"

"A little." Lying came so easily for me, I'm doing it again now, yet I always, always, felt guilty. That's why I could never be a politician. I'd crack under the pressure of a million voters. "You were with Dean and it was either sit in a cramped armchair and wait, or come out here for some nice dead Missouri air."

"Right." You could tell he was trying his best to ignore my ramblings. "Are you planning on leaving?"

"I have no where to go." That much was true. "The thing was in my house. I'm not going to lead it back to my family. Hell, I don't even know what _it_ is."

"Then you'll stick with us where we can keep an eye on you." Sam offered. "The bleeding phone was a new one."

I snorted and opened my car door to get out. "That was tacky and unoriginal."

Sam followed suit with a smirk. "It had you running fast enough."

"I didn't want it to ruin my boots." I said and shut the door.

* * *

"How are you doing this afternoon, handsome?" 

Dean flashed the nurse a cocky grin. "Much better now that you're here."

I rolled my eyes and caught Sam doing the same. Why is it that he had to get one of stereotype 'hot' nurses? Seriously, I have never seen a hot nurse in my life. Certainly not one that looked like Cameron Diaz.

When the nurse finished checking Dean's vitals, she gave him a teasing smile. "You just might end up my favorite patient if you keep that up."

"That's not all I can keep up."

I nearly choked on my Skittles at that. My god, did women actually fall for these lines?

"I'll see you later, cutie." Nurse Goodlay promised and walked out of the room.

"Please tell me she's going to give me a sponge bath later." Dean pleaded.

Sam gave him a withering look. "Dean. Focus. We have a problem."

"Don't you think I know that?" Dean's mood went from up to serious in less than a second. "Dad's missing and we have no way of getting around to find him."

"Not that we could anyway, since you're in here." Sam pointed out. "I already called Bobby. He'll be here in a few hours. Just in case."

"So then what, we wait?" Dean looked tired. Drained. "We know that bastard has him."

"We'll figure something out."

Dean growled and finally turned toward me, who was sitting quietly in a chair and wondering how the world existed before orange soda and Skittles. "You've been quiet ever since Sam insisted you stay here."

I had to swallow a Skittle before I could reply. "I didn't want to interrupt. But.. Um.. I do have something you could use." Oh god, why was I thinking of offering this?

"What can you give us?" Dean asked me. I had his interest.

"A ride." Lordee, that didn't sound right, so I rushed on. "My car. I mean, I have the room. I need your help anyway, so.. Exchange of services."

"You are not driving us around the country." Dean said in disbelief. "No way."

"Well.. No.. but.. I could let you guys drive if you wanted?" I got wary looks from them. "Look, I'm not begging you. I'm just offering. I'm not planning on leaving till you guys are either gone or I've found a getting out of a horrendous death free card."

The look Dean gave Sam was a clear 'No way in hell'. But Sam gave him a dirty look before turning to me. "We'll think about it."


	4. Overdose Delusion

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the WB and far more talented people than me. But goddess I wish I did own them. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

Note: A big **Thank You** shout out to those who have given me feedback, in whatever form you chose. I honestly appreciate it. Ya'll are fabulous. offers cake

* * *

**Part 4: Overdose Delusion**

I was shocked. Appalled.

My debit card still worked. I kid you not. I checked my account and it existed. Here. What the fuck? I took a guess and assumed my credit cards worked too. They did.

So there I was. Stuck in an obvious alternate reality, but with all my necessities intact. Something was weird. Of _course_ something was weird. This whole situation was completely insane.

Not that I'd knock it. But enough about that. You're going, "Get on with the story!" I am. I just monologue a lot. Hush. It's _my _head.

It was a few days after I offered my car to the boys. The Bobby guy showed up and I left the things with him without any fuss, much to Sam and Dean's relief. Then I went to stay in a motel, which is where I got to test one of my cards.

Sam had my cell number, and he was nice enough to keep me updated on Dean and Nurse Goodlay. Not really, but you know what I mean. I still want to know where those nurses come from. Are they bred somewhere?

Just what was I doing now? I was on my laptop, which had been in my tote bag since I don't go anywhere without it, and surfing the net for anything that might help me out.

I had no idea what I was looking for. None. But it wouldn't stop me from trying. I didn't want to die by some stereotype monster's hands.

Speaking of which, it had been quiet most of the week. No calls, no warnings, and no taunts. It was starting to worry me. Even more worrisome was that I had stopped researching for the last ten minutes to read fan fiction. I was bored, ok? Sheesh.

So there I was, going through fanfiction dot net and a pop up came onscreen. It was a black square with nothing on it. I scowled and tried to get rid of it. So I clicked the X on the window.

Instead of going poof like a good little pop up, it grew until it filled my screen. I frowned at the now blackened screen and a question faded into sight.

_Do you want to play?_

_Yes / No_

Oh hell. I clicked 'no' and the words faded to black again. The image changed and I found myself staring at.. myself. It was my motel room on the screen, as if there were a camera in the room. I turned around in my seat to face the direction the view was coming from, but there was nothing there except a wall. No painting, no strange object that may have a camera, nothing.

I turned back to the laptop in time to see the walls on the webfeed room change. The pale golden yellow darkened and paint began to peel off. Strange symbols formed on the walls as a blood-like substance began to soak through.

I glanced at my walls. Nothing was different.

My eyes went back to the screen and a shadow loomed above the webfeed version of me. It was tall, almost human shaped. Its arms rose and a rusted sword appeared in its hands. It swung down toward me..

I grabbed the laptop, rolled off the chair and onto the floor with a shriek, just as the table was cleaved in half.

There was nothing there. I risked a look at my screen again, but this time the feed was gone and I was staring at the website again.

I was still on the floor staring at my laptop when the door burst open, sending afternoon sunlight streaming inside.

"What happened?"

I looked up to see Sam in the doorway with a shotgun. Huh. They must have gotten their stuff back. Keen.

I smiled weakly at him. "Pop ups are killer."

* * *

Would you believe that no one else in the building noticed the noise? Yeah. Real nice neighborhood I was in. Christ. 

"Not more than five minutes before I got here, you were attacked by something you could only see on your computer?" Even Sam looked a little wary at that.

"Either that or that table had really shitty construction." I muttered. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's true."

Sam sighed and looked at me. I mean really looked. I felt like I was on display in some cheap freak show. I think he was trying to see if I was being honest about everything. "For someone who could have gotten killed, you're taking it pretty well."

"It's not the first time I've come close to dying." I said with a small shrug. I could have been thinking about my previous 'adventures', but surprisingly I was thinking about the wreck that killed my baby. My beautiful baby.

A cherry red 1968 Mustang Convertible.

I missed her so much. See, I too knew the love of the perfect car. I may cry.

I sighed and fell onto my back on my temporary bed. "I'm not saying it's not freaking me out, but what use is it going to be if I get hysterical and start screaming about it? None. So I'll just contain my hysteria behind a nice safe wall of cranky comments and random babble."

Hey, it worked in the past.

I wasn't sure what Sam saw when he looked at me. A crazy person? A liar? I don't know, but whatever it was, it made him quiet for a good while.

"It could be a poltergeist." He suddenly said. "Sometimes they latch on to people."

"Hehe.. Yeah, that's right.. They do. I remember this game where you could latch a chicken polt.." I cleared my throat nervously. "Nevermind."

"Random babble?" Sam quirked a small smile at me.

"I'm special that way. What I lack in cute, I make up for in 'what the fuck'ness. Wait until you hear me sing random Sesame Street songs. You'll want to shoot me." I rolled onto my side so I could get a look at him. "So when is that brother of yours getting out of the hospital?"

"Tomorrow if nothing comes up." He seemed relieved about that. "The doctor says he should take it easy afterward, but that's going to be hard to do, what with everything the way it is."

"Of course." I murmured. And me asking for help wasn't going to help any. Damn it. Guilt trip. Jerks. I needed a happy. I grinned and got off of my bed with a bit of a bounce. It was forced, but I was trying. Kay? "You know what? I'm hungry. Let's go get Chinese food and bring it to the hospital. We can mock your brother with it while he's stuck with hospital food."

"How is that going to help any?" Sam asked me, looking curious.

"It won't, but it'll get us fed and I can get a fortune cookie. Pleeeeeeease? I'll pay." I could feel my credit cards whimpering. They weren't used to being, well, used.

Sam looked unsure. I would have pouted, but I didn't want to be one of those girls. Too old for that. So I tried another tactic.

"You can have the extra cookie?"

* * *

"You guys are killing me here!" 

Dean was not a happy camper. He was fidgeting, complaining, and being a genuine brat. I think it was because I wouldn't give him any of the potstickers. He looked almost depressed by the hospital meal he had on his tray. I couldn't identify it and I didn't want to risk an arm by picking up the menu listing. Sam looked pretty damn content with his food. Either he was enjoying his brother's misery or he was glad that I gave in to letting him get whatever he wanted. Stupid puppy dog eyes. He's not even _my_ brother. I don't know how that happened.

"Look at it this way," I said and waved my pair of chopsticks at him, "You get.. Oh. No. Huh. You know, I thought I had something to make you feel better, but it was a mistake. My bad." I happily returned my attention to the potstickers with an innocent smile.

I could feel the dirty look Dean was giving me. I'm pretty sure that if he could, he would have lit me on fire. Was it wrong of me to do this? To encourage Sam into doing this?

Maybe, but frankly with all the drama around, I think this was needed. That's something else I've learned.

Make use of the laughter whenever possible. Cherish it. Enjoy it. Do it. Life is too short, no matter what you're doing, not to find the time to be happy.

I noticed Nurse Goodlay walk by the door. So did Dean. His bad mood vanished for a minute. "That's what I get."

"Is she the Happy Meal or the toy?" I asked with an innocent look. Guys. Pigs.

Dean looked like the cat that ate the canary. "Both."

"So she's cheap and everyone can afford her." I ignored the glare Dean gave me, even though Sam chuckled. "You get to play with her and then e-"

Nurse Goodlay chose that moment enter the room. My mouth snapped shut at the unfinished comment and she smiled at Dean. Good lord, we're talking eye sex. I felt dirty just being in the same room as these two. If the looks kept up, _I _was going to need a cold shower.

Maybe the nurse was a Mary-Sue and I could push her in front of a bus.

She sauntered over to Dean with her flirtatious smile and whispered something to him. His grin got wider.

Sam and I exchanged a look. He shrugged as if to say 'Brothers.'. I rolled my eyes as if to say, 'Somebody shoot me.'

The nurse slipped a piece of paper to Dean and then walked away without another word.

"What was that all about?" Sam asked Dean.

Dean, who had been watching the nurse sashay her hips out the door, seemed extremely pleased with himself. "She's off the clock this weekend and she gave me her number."

"You're supposed to take it easy for awhile." Sam pointed out with a sigh.

"Believe me, I will." That lazy grin remained in check.

I put my carton of food aside and picked up my fortune cookie without making any insulting comments. There were plenty going through my head, but they were in LaceySpeak. Not everyone could understand my language.

The cookie snapped open with a satisfied crispy sound. Oh good. It wasn't stale. I once had a fortune cookie that was so stale and soft that I could open it up and flatten it without breaking it. Gross.

I pulled out the slip of paper and sighed.

Fortune cookies sucked.

_Life is a game that you can't win._


	5. The Darkness That Lurks

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the WB and far more talented people than me. But goddess I wish I did own them. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

Ooh. A change in the point of view. In other words, a brief interlude from Lacey's mind.

* * *

**Part 5: The Darkness That Lurks**

_It was a run down little house, damaged by a fire and by age. Dust and cobwebs were once its only residents. __The smell of blood was potent and it was everywhere. Time seemed to slow down at every drip that fell from the archway of the room._

_It reeked of death._

_He sat on the burnt sofa with his head leaning back on the top of it._

_The sound of a pair of dice being rolled filled the room._

_Somewhere a floorboard creaked as footsteps echoed off the rotted wood of the house. There was a sharp intake of breath._

"_No."_

_A beautiful woman draped herself over him, her blood red lips curved into a wicked smile. A manicured nail traced his bare throat._

_He didn't move._

"_Get away from him!"_

_The pair in the doorway could only stare in horror as with one quick flick of her wrist, his throat was open._

_There was no scream. Just blood._

_Floor to ceiling flames burst from the floor in front of the pair, hindering any access into the room._

"_DEAN!"_

_The woman's face could not be seen beyond the flames, but her voice was sultry, smug…_

"_It's your move."_

Sam's eyes snapped wide open and he nearly fell out of his chair. His eyes slowly adjusted to the morning light flooding through the window of his brother's hospital room. He was relieved to see Dean still asleep in his bed, but the dream had chilled him. It was one thing to see strangers.. But to see his brother like that, helpless.. Stolen. Again. It was unthinkable. He ran his hands through his hair with a disgruntled sigh and leaned over.

That was the way Dean found him when he opened his eyes. He'd been having a damn good dream about that nurse, whose name he couldn't remember. But the euphoric feeling he'd gotten from that was swept away the moment he saw Sam. "What is it?"

Sam looked over at him, his skin ashen. "Searching for dad has to wait."

"What?" Sammy did not just say that. Dean sat up with a low growl. "No, he can't. That bastard has him and we aren't stopping for anything until we-"

"I saw you die, Dean!" Sam didn't even try to build up to it.

Dean frowned. "It wouldn't be the first time I almost died."

Sam felt a wave of déjà vu, but he shook it off. "You weren't _almost _dead. I saw you. We saw you. She killed you right in front of us."

"She? Was it that Lacey chick?" Dean grunted. He knew he had a bad feeling about her the moment he saw her. "We can handle it."

"It wasn't her." Sam told him. He didn't think she was that bad. Besides, she gave him the extra cookie last night. "In the dream, Lacey was with me. I think the woman in my dream is involved with whatever's trying to kill her."

"So we're dragged into her mess now." Dean was seriously annoyed at this point. He wanted out of the hospital. He wanted to find their dad, then he wanted to find that damn nurse for a victory celebration…

"Maybe, but I don't think it's that simple." Sam knew Dean was going to hate this part. "All I know is that we should take Lacey up on her offer."

"You have to be fucking kidding me, Sammy." Dean groaned in dismay. He wasn't about to be chauffeured around in some chick car.

"I'm serious. I think we need each other for this."

"No way in hell."

* * *

That afternoon, the Winchesters were standing outside of the small motel Lacey was staying at. 

"You owe me big, Sammy." Dean grumbled as he surveyed the parking lot.

"It's Sam." The younger brother corrected automatically. "Trust me. This is the way it has to be."

Their family friend Bobby joined them with a shake of his head. "You boys sure you're going to do this?"

"We have to." Sam said and pointed. "It's the Jeep Liberty by room number five." He led the others over, and as they waited by the Jeep, he walked over to the room's door. He knocked on it lightly and waited.

A few minutes later, the petite brunette opened the semi broken door. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and she wore a new pair of jeans with a black t-shirt. She tilted her head and her brown eyes filled with curiosity. "Well crap, did I have another freaky experience and miss it?"

That took Sam by surprise. "Huh?"

"Almost every time you come into contact with me, when it's not on the phone, I've usually had the shit scared out of me." Lacey shrugged as if it didn't bother her. She stuck her head out the door and noticed Dean and Bobby. "Is this an intervention?"

"What?" Sometimes she just plain confused him. He shook his head and tried to explain. "No, but we do need your car keys."

Her eyes narrowed instantly. "It doesn't go anywhere without me."

"I know, but we need the keys so we can load our stuff into it." Sam offered a small smile, hoping she'd believe him.

Lacey glanced at Dean, who looked extremely grumpy at this point, then back at Sam. She walked away from the door and grabbed her tote bag from the bed. She rummaged in there for a moment and pulled out her keys as she walked back over to the door. But she didn't stop. She walked past Sam and to her Jeep without a word. Instead, she quietly unlocked the vehicle and then put her bag in the backseat where a couple of other new looking bags sat on the floor.

She turned back toward the men and held out the keys. "So who's driving my little step-child?"

Dean snatched the keys out of her hand and she gave him a dirty look, which he returned in full.

Sam groaned. It wasn't starting out well.

* * *

It took about an hour to load up all their gear into the back of the jeep, but when it was done, everyone but Dean seemed relieved. He was wary about the way Lacey had locked her eyes onto the weapon arsenal. 

Her eyes nearly shined. "God, you boys have the best toys."

"Yes we do." Dean said with a smirk, and he couldn't resist saying the next part. "That's why the women always beg for more."

Her expression darkened as she slid into the backseat. "And here I thought they just begged for new batteries." Just in case Dean thought about strangling her, she slammed the door shut and smiled sweetly at him from the safety of her car.

Bobby placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Try not to kill her on the first day."

"Second day it is then." Dean glowered as Sam joined them. "We ready to go?"

"Everything's packed up." Sam said. "We'll just grab some gas and get out of here."

"You boys be careful." Bobby warned. "You don't know what's got you in their sights this time."

Sam nodded. "We will. Thanks for everything. If you hear anything about dad…"

"I'll call. Don't worry. Get out of here." Bobby ushered them toward the car and walked away.

The Winchesters got into the jeep without much of a fuss, but Lacey glanced up from her Fangoria magazine with a curious look. She watched Dean as he moved the seat. When he was settled, he looked at the stereo with a scowl. "You don't have a cassette player."

"Some people do live in the modern world, Dean." Sam said dryly. "I told you to update your collection."

"Hey. I'm driving. My choice."

Lacey sighed and opened the compartment between the front seats. Inside were a multitude of cds. "There."

"Let me guess, chick music, right?" Dean watched for her reaction in the rearview mirror.

The woman's eyes narrowed and she started looking through the cds while mumbling various profanities that should have been illegal in most of the country. She finally found what she was looking for and placed the cd into the stereo. "The car moves if you turn the ignition on."

Sam watched as the pair glared daggers at each other. He groaned inwardly as Dean started the car up.

Lacey turned the stereo on and practically threw herself back into her seat. She was acting like a brat now, but she didn't care. Chick music indeed.

The sound of Black Sabbath's 'Paranoid' filled the jeep.

Dean looked so surprised that he didn't bother to hide it. Not that Lacey noticed, since had returned her attention to her magazine. She was also plotting various ways to drive Mr. Testosterone crazy.

If there were more people around, Sam would have been willing to start a pool on who would kill the other first. _This is going to be a long ride_, he thought to himself.

A very long ride.


	6. Ain’t Gonna Rain

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the WB and far more talented people than me. But goddess I wish I did own them. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

Mhm... Lacey's back in control at the moment.

* * *

**Part 6: Ain't Gonna Rain**

Oh, it's you. Hello again. Welcome to my road to hell.

For the record, I didn't start it.

"If you kick the seat one more time, I'm pulling over." Dean snarled at me.

I resisted the urge to flip him off and just stared out the window to watch the rain come down. "And what are you going to do then? Spank me? 'Cause you can't afford my prices." I _lightly_ tapped the driver's seat with my booted foot.

With a growl, Dean did exactly what he threatened he would. He pulled us over to the side of the road.

Sam was reading the Key of Solomon and didn't bother to look up. He also didn't bother to hide the amused grin on his face. "Try not to kill each other."

Dean turned the ignition off and glared at me. "Out of the car. Now."

"Excuse you?" I stared in disbelief. "_My_ step-child you're driving. I'm not getting out just so you can peel out and leave me stranded!"

He grumbled and I was pretty sure I heard the words 'psycho bitch' in there, but I might have been imagining it. Before I knew it, Dean was out of the car and my door was open. "Out. We're going to have a little talk."

It was raining pretty hard by then, so I pointed that out. He said he didn't care. There was an exchange of stubborn looks.

I threw my hands up in the air and got out of the car. "Fine. But if I catch pneumonia and die, I'm making sure to haunt you."

He slammed the door shut and led me away from the car. "Oh, like that's a threat." When we were out of any possible hearing range for Sam, he turned around. "What the hell is your problem now?"

"_My_ problem?" My mouth hung open. "_I _don't have a problem. You have the problem. You've been down right rude to me ever since I met you. I played good Samaritan and this is the thanks I get?"

"Maybe it's because this is all a little too convenient." Dean was not a happy camper and the rain pouring down probably didn't help any. "You randomly show up on the highway, need our help, have a car to spare, and then you manage to get Sam on your side..."

You're right, it was convenient. That was my curse. I wasn't just a Mary-Sue, I was a Convenient Plot Device. "Fine. Blah blah blah. You don't trust me." Good for you. It's probably best you didn't. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want to know what you want." His eyes burned into mine. If he were from Krypton, I'd expect to get a little heat vision action. Or get x-rayed. Ick.

"I want a pony." I said in a sickeningly sweet voice. Before he could snark at me, I shrugged and resumed normal vocal tones. "I want to not die. I want to know why the fuck I'm in this mess." Oops. The voice was rising. "I want to be able to have a night off from work without someone wanting to kill the fuck out of me. I want to never ever see pizza again. But most importantly, I want it to stop raining on me!" I stomped my foot and brushed a lock of damp hair off of my cheek. "I don't want to be in this situation any more than you do. You don't trust me? Fine. I don't care. I just want to go home and I _can't_ go home until whatever it is that wants to play games with me, goes away."

He may have listened to my little tirade, but it didn't change his opinion of me. "If you do anything to hurt Sam or me, or anyone else, so help me..."

I held my head up high and stared right into his eyes. "I have absolutely no intention of doing either." There was a moment there. What kind, I didn't know. In fact, I couldn't really tell you what happened next, since I suddenly felt the ground disappear beneath me.

Everything went black.

* * *

I could smell cigarette smoke as my eyes fluttered open. The lights were dim and I could see a round table in front of me. I was groggy, but awake. I took the moment to pull myself together and then checked my surroundings. 

The table had a red cloth draped over it and a single flesh colored candle with swirls of red sitting in the middle, its flame flickering by some unknown breeze. The room itself had no doors that I could see, just red fabric hanging everywhere. The only other furniture was an empty antique armchair across from the small red loveseat I was sitting on.

I heard soft, yet urgent, whispering, but shoved the detail away when I felt a chill. I rubbed my arms to send some warmth back into me and looked up to see the black ceiling painted with symbols in white. I couldn't tell what they were, but it didn't look like something I wanted to be around.

A chain rattling caught my attention. My head snapped to the left of me, and one of the fabrics on the wall fluttered.

An exit? Good. I stood up and walked cautiously over. I pushed the curtain aside to see a dark hallway with a lone light hanging from the ceiling. It swayed softly as I eased my way down the corridor.

The sound of chains clanking grew louder and I found myself greeted by the familiar smell of death and decay. I had to cover my mouth to keep from choking. I knew that smell. I hated that smell. I turned to go back to the red room, but the curtain was gone and all that was there was a wall.

No where to go but forward.

I had to remind myself that I could handle it. I'd seen death. I could go on. But even as I kept going, I couldn't shake the icy feeling from my bones.

I continued down the hall and was soon greeted by a pair of bloodstained doors. The smell was so thick in the air that I felt like it was an unwanted blanket suffocating the life from me. I reached out to place a hand on the door and I heard a blood curdling scream. My hand quickly retracted when I heard some more faded whispering and I took a step back, but something compelled me to peek inside.

I call it stupidity.

Ignoring the common sense yelling at me not to, I pushed one door open and took a look inside.

Bodies hung from the ceiling, blood dripping from their skinned and lifeless forms. The chains holding them swayed slowly as someone screamed. I pushed the door open a little more and at the far end of the room, a figure stood in front of a man that was crucified on a metal cross. 'His' back was facing me and the man screamed in agony as the figure peeled a piece of flesh off of him as if they were peeling an orange.

Chains rustled again and the room filled with moans. I looked up at the bodies hanging from the ceiling and my breath caught in my throat. I had been wrong.

They were still alive.

The skinned captives squirmed and writhed in their chains, sending themselves swinging back and forth, spraying the floor with more blood from their open wounds. The screams, maybe even my presence, seemed to excite them.

The figure stiffened. I quickly retreated from the door before 'he' could turn around. I backed away quickly, but found my way blocked as my back collided into something hard.

I didn't turn around, even as a blood covered hand grabbed my throat. It forced my head up and I tried to struggle free, but its grip was too strong.

"What piece are you?"

I felt the familiar pain of something slicing through my flesh and I whimpered. Blood spilled from the cut on my arm and the figure let go, throwing me through the double doors. I cried out as I hit the floor, and it was covered in so much blood that I slid a few extra feet.

A hand grabbed my wrist and I looked over to see a skinned victim clutching at me. "So.. Cold…" My skin burned from their grip even as it sent a wave of frost through me. I wrenched my wrist free only to hear the crashing sound of more victims falling from their chains and onto the floor.

Thud. Slide. Thump.

They crawled toward me, their moans of pain and cries of misery filling me with more dread than the sight of blood did. I tried to get up, but I only slipped and fell back onto the floor.

Laughter filled the room and the lights went out.

Chains moved and I screamed as hands started to paw at me.

"So cold..."

"_WAKE UP!"

* * *

_

I did. I'd like to say that I woke up without a fuss, but I was screaming bloody murder. I struggled to get out of my captor's grip, but it was strong and firm.

"Calm down! It was dream!" The voice was familiar and I felt as if someone were giving me an order. The voice softened slightly with a just a hint of concern. "It was a dream. You're fine. Now stop struggling."

I finally opened my eyes as I tried to slow my breathing. Sam was staring at me with concern and looked over my shoulder. I followed his look and realized that Dean was holding on to me.

We were still at the side of the road. The rain had stopped and Dean was on his knees with me in his grasp. I opened my mouth to speak, but I had no will to power it. I just shuddered as I remembered the burning hands and the moans.

"What happened?" Sam asked. "Dean said that the two of you were talking when you fainted."

I shook my head. I couldn't speak. Not then. I tried to break free from Dean, and I cried out in pain. Dean's grip loosened instantly and I lifted my left arm with a sense of dread. It was still cut and bleeding, and my wrist was still bruised from where the first body had grabbed me.

"Can we go now?" I managed weakly, staring at the bloody trail on my arm. I wanted to be warm. "Please?"


	7. One Missed Call

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the WB and far more talented people than me. But goddess I wish I did own them. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

Oh look, the boys again.

* * *

**Part 7: One Missed Call**

_Maplewood, Kentucky_

Sam added some sugar to his coffee as he joined Dean at the table of the coffee shop. "I really don't think it's a good idea to leave her alone like that."

"She was ready to throw a chair at us if we didn't." Dean pointed out. He grinned at a passing group of college girls, who proceeded to giggle at the attention. "Besides, we needed to talk."

"You're having a lot of these talks lately," Sam said dryly. "Should I be worried?"

"Hell yeah. I don't trust her, Sam."

Sam sighed. He knew it had been coming. "I know you don't. But she helped us out, Dean."

"But why? If she just got us to the hospital, that'd be one thing. But she knew to take stuff from the car. Not just any stuff either."

"I know that, but she said-"

Dean's voice was low, "What is it with this blind faith you suddenly have? Hell, you were the one to notice something up with Meg and you know you liked her."

"It's not blind faith." Sam tried to explain himself, but he wasn't even sure what it was. "I just know she needs our help. You saw what happened when she passed out."

"Something straight of a horror movie." Dean muttered. "Half expected Freddy Krueger to come popping out with a one line gag."

The conversation was rudely interrupted as the sound of a lullaby burst to life from Dean's jacket.

"What the hell?" Sam stared at his brother who just grinned and pulled a purple phone out of his pocket. Sam groaned. "You didn't."

"You bet your ass I did." Dean looked extremely pleased with himself as he flipped the phone open to discover someone listed as 'Calendar Girl'. "No better way to find out about her." He gave Sam a 'Now shut up' kind of look. "Hello?"

It was a woman's voice and she didn't sound pleased. _"Who is this?"_

"This is Eric Bloom." Dean ignored the annoyed look that Sam gave him. "Who am I talking to?"

"_You're talking to a woman who was listening to that band before you were born."_ Dean's eyes widened at the voice on the other end. _"Now you tell me who this really is before I start hunting you for sport."_

Dean scowled, not that the woman could see him, "This is Dean. I'm a.. friend of Lacey's."

The line was silent for a few moments. _"A friend? How do I know you aren't some kind of sicko trying to hurt her? For all I know, you could be the bastard that broke into her house."_

"Someone broke into her house?" Dean feigned surprise and ignored the wild gestures that Sam was making. "She didn't tell me that. What happened?"

"_I don't think it's any of your business. Now you either put my daughter on the line or so help me God, I will reach through this phone and beat you to death with a baseball bat."_

Dean tried to remain calm, but his own annoyance was starting to come out. "Look, I told you, I'm-"

"May I please have my phone now?"

Sam shrugged when Dean glared at him. "I tried to warn you."

Lacey stood behind Dean, her hand outstretched and waiting for him to fulfill her request. He was ready to snap at her, but the tired look on her face stopped him. He put it in her hand with a shrug. "Can't blame me for trying."

As if to appease Dean's desire for information, Lacey sat down in an empty chair next to Dean as she brought the phone to her ear. "Sorry. I.. Oh. Yeah. Hi, mom. No, he's not some psycho. He's a.. yeah. No! Ugh, can we please not talk about that? No, I'm _fine_. Honest. I'm just.. Going on an extended road trip. … Because I needed to leave. They what? Oh.. Well, then I'll look for another one when I get back. Just take money out of my account and pay my rent for me, ok? No.. Maybe. I don't know. Just in case. NO! Good lord. I swear that I'm not running off to get married. Why do you automatically assume that.. MOM. Calm down. If I were being kidnapped, I wouldn't be on the phone now. … I'm hanging up now.. No, it's not some kind of ruse to throw you off.. Safety word? There is no.. What are you talking about? I'm not.. He's not… _Mother_. By the way, Erin has a new girlfriend and doesn't want you to meet her. Bye!"

Lacey clicked her phone off and slid it into her coat pocket. She looked over at the Winchesters, who were staring at her as if she were crazy. "What?"

"Crazy runs in your family, doesn't it." Dean shook his head in disbelief and glanced at Sam. "Where do you find these people?"

"I don't find.. Shut up." Sam pointed to the phone Lacey had tucked away. "Is that normal?"

She nodded and folded her arms onto the table. The young woman placed her head on them with a shrug. "Baby of the family and the only one to live out of town. It's cool though. Just our wacky little way." She turned toward Dean with a smirk. "She doesn't like you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Really. I didn't notice between the death threats."

"That's normal." Lacey's smirk remained intact as she kicked Dean from underneath the table.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean exclaimed. He rubbed his now bruised knee with an irritated growl.

"For making me talk to my mother!" Lacey forced herself back out of her seat and stuck her tongue out at Dean. "I need sugar." She wandered off to the counter to order something, leaving the brothers alone again.

Sam was trying hard not to laugh at the situation, which bugged the hell out of Dean. "I like her."

"You would." Dean grumbled. "You're not the one getting threats from some crazy woman who's daughter has a fetish for hitting me."

"She could always pull your hair, but that would probably be too obvious." Sam teased.

"Shut up." Dean took a drink of his coffee as he watched their tag along at the counter. She was busying herself while waiting for her order by toying with a rubber band. As soon as her order came up, she accidentally released the rubber band and a girl let out a startled yelp as it hit her in the backside. Dean snickered as Lacey quickly feigned ignorance to the situation and casually claimed her drink before joining them at the table.

"You saw nothing. Nothing." Lacey whispered to them. She clutched her drink and gave them both shifty looks. "Do we understand each other?"

Dean rolled his eyes and then caught a look at her drink. "What _is_ that?"

The young woman blinked in confusion. "Huh? This?" She took a sip of her drink with a sigh of content. "Strawberry tea. Well, bubble tea. I love this stuff." Lacey shook the cup toward him. "Want it?"

"Ugh, no. Offer it to Sam, he likes those fruity chick drinks."

"Hey!" Sam looked almost wounded by his brother's moment of mocking. "I just get tired of plain coffee."

"Everyone needs a little flavor in their life." Lacey pointed out.

Dean's eyes were back on the college girls. "I see my flavor right now."

"Is he for real?" Lacey asked Sam. She just couldn't believe the guy was such a.. well, guy. "Because I'm not sure if I should feel offended on behalf of women everywhere, or if I should buy him a clue."

Sam ignored the dirty look Dean gave and laughed. Dean continued to glare even as a youthful looking blonde came running into the shop.

"Ohmygod!" The blonde was nearly breathless from running. Her eyes were wild with panic as she rushed over to the group of college girls. She didn't even bother to whisper to her friends. "Did you hear? It's all over the news!"

A tall girl with glasses pushed the frames up on her nose. "What are you talking about?"

"Another girl was found dead in the cemetery this morning!" The blonde exclaimed. "Just like last year!"

The girls quickly rushed out of the building, whispering the entire time.

Lacey glanced at the Winchesters while wondering if this was going to end up one of their jobs. Sam had already pulled the laptop out and was surfing for information.

"Find anything, Sammy?" Dean asked him. His attitude had done a 180, and each time he did that it surprised Lacey at how easy it was for him.

"According to the papers on the last death, which was about a year ago, they never caught anyone." Sam said as he skimmed an article. "If you count the one today, that makes seven. One per year. The girls are always found at the base of a statue."

Lacey's brow crinkled in recognition. "Like that Black Aggie story?"

Dean frowned at her. "That's not real. That statue just marked a civil war general. It was all just bullshit invented for the sake of sorority initiations."

"I know that." Lacey took a sip of her tea with a shrug. "But it could be some creepy psycho targeting girls and using it as an M.O."

"The articles say that there's never any sign of struggle." Sam shut the laptop and prepared to leave. "I think we should take a look."

Dean pointed a finger at Lacey. "Go back to the motel and don't do anything stupid."

"Psh. In that case, I guess I should stop breathing." Lacey muttered and watched the pair leave.

* * *

The lone officer stuck with guard duty at the crime scene was not looking happy. The middle aged officer was grumbling about punk kids when he spotted two more nosy bastards heading his way. He held his hands out to stop them. "This is a crime scene, boys. Now go back to chasing the campus chicks." 

The shorter one flashed an FBI badge at him, causing the officer to want to deck the smug looking punk. Officer Richard Jenkins was a very unsatisfied man with plenty of anger management issues.

"I'm Agent Matthias and this is Agent Rosenthal." Agent Matthias nodded toward the crime scene. "We'd appreciate it if you'd let us take a look around."

Officer Jenkins was already in a bad mood, but now he had to listen to some punk suck up order him aside? He debated on giving them trouble, but decided against it. He didn't really give a shit anyway. He stepped aside and let them pass. "Bout time," He muttered. "Maybe if you'd shown up a couple of years ago this wouldn't have happened." So maybe he'd hassle them a little bit, at least from the safety of under his breath. He watched them stiffen slightly as they ignored him and walked on ahead. Jenkins shook his head and turned around. "Punk kids."

"I'm amazed you didn't snap at him." Sam said as they headed for the grave marker.

Dean pulled his EMF and turned it on. The device immediately started its light screeching. "The guy is still an officer at his age and he's never going to rise in rank. I think that's a good enough insult." He circled the statue carefully. "We definitely have a spirit of some kind here. The EMF is going nuts."

Sam merely nodded as he looked at the life sized statue. He had half expected it to be a replica of the sculpture formally in the Loudon Park Cemetery.

This was not what he'd expected. The bronze statue was of a young girl, maybe a teenager, on her knees and looking up into the sky, her hands outstretched with a small offering of flowers. Sam crouched down next to it to get a closer look. Something about it was nagging at the back of his mind.

"Find something?" Dean asked as he joined him.

"I'm not sure. Doesn't something seem.." Sam frowned and tried to explain his apprehension, but didn't take his eyes off the statue. "Something doesn't click."

"So far I'm thinking a restless spirit around-" Dean's eyes widened at the statue. "Tell me I didn't just imagine that."

The statue's eyes had shifted to look at them. The Winchesters looked on as the bronze lips curved into a small smile and the eyes slowly shut.


	8. Beautiful Day

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the WB and far more talented people than me. But goddess I wish I did own them. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

Yes, Lacey's back.

I'd also like to give a big shout out and thanks to Weirdbard, because dude, you rock and you know you give me evil plot bunnies and help out tons. This probably wouldn't be nearly as amusing, for me anyway, without your input and random thoughts.

* * *

**Part 8: Beautiful Day**

I could have stayed in the motel. I could have run for student council president back in high school. I would have lost, but the idea is that I could have. I could have done a lot of things.

So why in God's name was I wandering the campus of the local college?

The boys weren't the only ones who could do research. All but one of the victims had been enrolled in Dhalehurst University. If you asked me, and you didn't, this was a waste of time. If a girl died here once a year, and this year's victim was already a corpsicle (only without the frozen foods section), then the pattern was done. The thing in question more than likely would stay dormant for another year. Right?

I absently tugged on the cuff of my blouse as I perused the campus. I even got a few looks from people. Why, I had no clue.

"Hey, gorgeous, how's it going?" Someone called out in my direction. I arched an eyebrow and glanced over at the caller. It was a mere trio of guys. Kind of cute if you liked the whole jock thing. What looked like the leader walked over with a flirtatious smile. He ran his hand through his slightly tousled blond hair. "You look a little lost."

I still hadn't quite grasped the fact that he was talking to me. Gorgeous and me do not go in the same sentence. (Though one of my friends had kindly pointed out that it was mostly due to my attitude.) Maybe this guy was blind. Maybe it was a dare. Meh. I could have pretended to flirt back, but that wasn't going to happen. I don't flirt. Ever. The end. Instead, I frowned slightly and tried to look confused. "Actually, I think I am. I just got into town today. I came here to visit a friend of mine. Her name is Marissa Traverse. Do you know her by any chance?"

The guy's smile faltered instantly. I guess mentioning the name of the resident dead girl would burst anyone's desire to flirt. Unless you're Dean, but that guy had a resolve like no other. It was almost admirable. I pulled out all the stops in my acting resume, which really wasn't much. "What is it? Did I say something wrong? Did you date her or something?"

Jock number one shuffled his feet and cast a worried look toward his buddies before turning back to me. "You haven't heard.. Um.. I'm really sorry to tell you this, really.. But…"

"But what?" Throw in a worried look to go with that that well of confusion, girl. "Please, tell me. What's going on?"

"They found her dead this morning. It's been all over campus." He swallowed nervously as he watched my reaction. "Look, I'm real sorry."

I covered my mouth with my hands and let out a horrified gasp. "But.. No! I just spoke to her the other day! How did it happen?"

"I don't know. Look, I'm sorry. But we've got to go. Practice and all." He looked pretty shamefaced, but extremely relieved at thinking of an excuse to bail on me. Real nice guy. "I'm sorry." He quickly ran off in he opposite direction with his little buddies in tow, leaving me, the supposedly grief stricken friend, all alone.

What a prick.

I was tempted to flip him off, but the not quite familiar sound of 'Carry On My Wayward Son' by Kansas interrupted the urge. I still wasn't use to that on my phone. I sighed and plucked my phone out of my pocket. "Lacey's House of Whores, how may I direct your call?"

"_So that's how you earn a living."_ Dean replied. I could practically hear the smirk on his face. Well, if you could hear that. But you could visualize it. Totally. Not that I was. I was too tired to try.

"It beats delivering pizza." I muttered as I started walking again. "What did I do now?"

"_I thought I told you to stay back at the motel." _Ooh. He was getting growly on me again.

"Who says I'm not there?"

"_I'm standing in your room and unless you're invisible, you're not here."_

"My ro.. What did you do, pick the lock?" I should have known. "Haven't you ever heard of privacy?"

"_I gave you an order."_ Dean stopped. I wonder if he realized that he sounded like his father. _"Where are you?"_

I looked around. "I'm wandering around the college campus trying to find some guys to do my bidding. I feel the desire to go to a kegger and have a drunken one night stand with the entire football team."

"_If that's what you wanted, all you had to do was ask. A football team has nothing on me." _He sounded pretty smug and I rolled my eyes. _"Stay where you are. I'll be there in a few minutes."_

"What about Sam?" Yes, what about him? Why can't I hang out with him? Could I adopt him? Because he was what I wanted in a little brother. Only he was taller.

"_He's checking some things out at the library. We'll go get him after I drag your ass back here."_

I sighed. "Fine, whatever. Look, I'll wait for you outside the administration building." I turned my phone off without waiting for his reply. It wasn't that I wanted to piss him off this time. I just wanted to not think.

* * *

I was sitting on the edge of a decorative fountain while listening to my iPod and humming along to 'Endless Love' by Jackie Chan & Kim Hee Sun when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see Dean giving me an odd look. I sighed and made a show of how displeased I was at having to turn off my music. Hey, I really liked that song. I took my time, which annoyed him further, and put my iPod away with a roll of my eyes. I didn't know why I felt the strong desire to annoy him, but I did. It was almost as if the effort took on a life of its own. 

"What can I do for you?" I asked in my most innocent voice.

"Are you going to sit there all day or you going to take this seriously?"

"Honey child, I take everything seriously. I just choose to adapt and react in my own special way." With a sugary smile, I held out my hand for him to take. "Aren't you going to help a girl to her feet? Its what a gentleman would do."

He looked at my hand as if it offended him. Hell, it probably did. But he took it and pulled me up. "In case you failed to notice, I'm not a gentleman."

"Too bad. I hate it when good looks are wasted on those who don't appreciate them properly." I took my hand back and adjusted my tie. Yes, I was wearing a necktie. It was this cute little ensemble. Purple and white pinstripe blouse, one funky purple necktie, a black blazer and these cute black pants I found the day before we left Missouri. Urm.. Not that you cared. I was just really proud of the outfit, ok? Shut up.

Dean just shook his head at me. "And here I thought you hated me for my personality. You're just jealous because I'm better looking than you."

I wanted to have a witty comment, but I couldn't think of one since I partially agreed. I followed him as he led the way to my car. "For the record, I don't hate you. I just find your massive levels of testosterone overwhelming."

"I've never had any complaints." His eyes had a teasing gleam in them. "I get it now. You're a man hater. Someone dump you before the big dance and leave you crying in your living room?"

"First of all, I'm not a man hater." I was feeling a little defensive now. "Second of all, I don't cry. Third, watch out for that branch."

Dean easily sidestepped the low branch on the tree we passed. Too bad. I had kind of hoped that it would hit him in the head. "What were you doing here anyway?"

I shrugged. "When you guys ditched me, which was extremely rude by the way, I did some digging on the other victims. All but one just happened to be going to school here."

"Ignoring the fact that you didn't listen to me," Dean's voice held a tone that suggested I shouldn't do that again, "Did you find out anything while you were here?"

"Other than the fact that the local jocks are blind and heartless? Not really. I was going to try and get into her dorm, but she lived at a sorority house."

Dean's eyes lit up at the words 'sorority house'. "Then we should check it out."

"You just want to see the naked pillow fighting that only exists in the imagination of delusional males." I said and ignored the grin Dean had on his face. "Besides, that was the second place I checked. The girls are apparently away for the week because of some sorority reunion bullshit. It's locked up." The second I said that, I knew it was a mistake.

There was a huge Cheshire Cat grin on Dean's face. "I'm about to give you your first lesson in breaking and entering."

I groaned inwardly. One day I was going to have to learn to keep my mouth shut.

* * *

I had to admit, and boy did I hate doing so, but Dean was damn good at his job. It was almost awe inspiring to watch him work. I did have one minor problem that bugged me, and naturally, I had to mention it. 

"Have you ever thought about using gloves?" I suggested as we searched through Marissa's room. I scowled in disdain at a poster for 'Smallville' that was hanging on the wall. The only good thing about that show over the past couple of years was the fourth season when they had.. That thought stopped instantly and I couldn't help but glance at Dean. I might be able to use that info later, if my mini research panned out. "I hear that the cops these days can do wonders with a thing called fingerprints."

"I don't like gloves. They cut down on sensations." Dean was currently engrossed in what looked like Marissa's diary. "Besides, we wipe things down when we're done." He explained with a distracted tone.

"Yeah, I've heard some guys use that line on other 'things'." I muttered and rolled my eyes as Dean smirked at me. "But if you wore surgical gloves, you wouldn't have to. No fingerprints and they're thin enough that you can still feel what you're doing." I picked up a digital camera and started going through the photos stored on it. "Anything interesting in that, or are you just reading about some sorority orgy marathon?"

"I wish." Dean muttered. "Nothing here. It's mostly a bunch of lists on what she ate."

"Hey..." I walked over to him as he looked up in my direction. I showed him the camera. "I found cemetery pics."

He plucked the camera from my hands. "That statue there. That was the one they found her at."

"Okay, and…?"

"The damn thing moved." He said, gauging my reaction.

I frowned and turned back to the camera. "Kind of like it's doing in the pictures?" I asked quietly.

The picture was moving. Or at least the statue was. It was rising slowly to its feet and took a few small steps forward. The image grew staticy and I knocked the camera out of Dean's hands. I received a glare for my efforts, but I shrieked instead of snapping.

The camera had landed on the bed and a bronze hand was somehow forcing its way through the screen. Jesus fuck. It was a 'Ring'/'Ringu' ripoff!

My eyes were wide and Dean grabbed my wrist. We turned toward the door, but it was too late.

The statue was standing in the doorway with a serene smile on her face. She reached out toward Dean. "So.. Pretty."

Then she was gone. There was no mysterious mojo or flickering lights. One moment she was there, the next she wasn't.

Dean and I stared at each other in confusion.

"What the fuck just happened?"


	9. Reasons Why

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the CW/WB whatever they want to call it now and far more talented people than me. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

* * *

**Part 9: Reasons Why  
**

"So here's what I found out." Sam started to explain. "The statue was made as a memorial to a seventeen year old girl that disappeared from the area about forty years ago."

After getting the hell out of dodge and picking up Sam, and filling him in on what happened, we were now back in the motel listening to him explain what he found.

Dean was sitting at the table, leaning back in his chair with their dad's journal in front of him. Sam was sitting on the edge of one of the beds, and I swear, he had this gleam in his eyes. For a guy who wanted normalcy, when he was in this mode, he seemed so.. Animated. It was interesting. As for me, I was sitting on the same bed as Sam, but I was leaning against the headboard and trying to braid my hair. What? It was bugging me.

"Her name was Ava Montgomery," Sam continued. "Apparently, she had a full ride to Juilliard before she disappeared. No one ever found out what happened to her, not even her piano teacher who claimed to know her better than anyone."

"So we're probably looking at a murder victim of some kind." Dean said. He seemed slightly relieved by it. "We have to find her body and torch it. Same as always."

"But _why_ is she killing these people?" I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. "And why was she almost touchy feely with you?"

"You heard her. I'm the good looking one." He smirked at me and I rolled my eyes.

"I'm surprised Sam and I can fit into this room, what with you and your gargantuan ego sitting there." I said to him. "So why is she only doing it once a year? Why are all but one of the girls college students?"

Sam looked over at me with a curious look. "You really did do research."

"I told you I did." I finished braiding my hair with a shrug. "Boredom makes me play with Google."

"From what I dug up, the other victims from the school were top of their class in some way." Sam explained.

"And the girls were probably all part of a sorority that dared them to go to the cemetery." Dean guessed. "Girls with promising futures heading to a haunted area where a girl who lost hers was hanging about. Motivation? Jealousy."

It really was amazing to watch them do this. It was just.. Wow. You know? But I still wasn't satisfied. It was all so.. Convenient. "What about the high school girl?"

Sam shook his head. "She's the only one that doesn't fit the pattern…" He trailed off.

"I hear a but coming." I prodded him.

"She was related to the piano teacher."

* * *

I drummed my fingers on the table as I stared vacantly at the drink in front of me. I was a very unhappy camper. But not because the guys wouldn't let me play investigator with them. I was mostly fine with that. They knew what they were doing. Me? I only knew from fandoms and fiction. If you ever wanted to survive a horror movie, I could help you. But only if I wasn't with you. Otherwise I'd just use you as cannon fodder. I'd need those extra five minutes to survive. I'm selfish that way. 

I hated this situation. I really, truly hated it. I hated horning in on the brothers' lives like this. I hated feeling like a third wheel that would never be needed.

Holy crap. I was the tin dog. Or at least I would be. I needed a drink of brain cell killing proportions. So why did I order a club soda? Oh that's right. I didn't drink. Damn.

Instead, I merely sipped my lame ass drink and wished I were back home. I'd even settle for running around Hogwarts with Harry while Angelus tried to kill us. Good times.. God damn it, Potter never did buy me a new fedora. Fuck. That still bugged me. I missed my hat.

I tried to ignore the chatter of the other patrons of the bar as best I could, but it was hard when I could feel a set of eyes on me. So I tried my best to act casual and cast a bored look around the room, trying to see who was watching me.

There. A man by the pool table stood against a wall. I couldn't see his face due to the dim lighting near him, but his hand rose in a mock salute. He removed himself from the wall and my eyes widened as I saw his face. His mouth curved into an evil smile.. And a man playing pool chose that moment to block my view. When he moved again, the mystery man was gone.

Only he wasn't a mystery. That was John Winchester. Oh god, oh god. Do I tell them? How do I tell them? They've never shown me a picture of him. Damn damn damn.

What if it was a figment of my imagination? Fuck.

"Can I buy you a dr-"

"Fuck off and die, please." I said with a syrupy tone. I really wasn't in the mood for the redneck that was leering at me. He looked pissed and I matched his glare without blinking. He finally left me alone, allowing me to return to my thoughts.

Useless thoughts, but thoughts.

What did I know so far? Both Sam and I had dreams of doom and gloom. Sam's involved Dean getting killed by some bitch. Could be a Sue. But.. That was assuming I was playing with the same rules. Usually in this sort of thing, I'd have had a run in with a Sue of some kind by now. One that wasn't me. But so far.. Nada. It unnerved me. If this scenario didn't play by the rules, then what the fuck was I doing here?

Now where.. Ah. Woman killing Dean. Me with the calls and taunts and childish games. Then me and the dream of what I've been calling the Skinner Demon. Not original, but that thing.. It was evil. I resisted the urge to shudder, but my gaze fell on the bandaged arm that hid in the sleeve of my blazer. Sigh.

Two different dream invaders. Each with their own style.

I was still lost in my thoughts when Sam and Dean sat themselves down at my table. The waitress was more than happy to come by and flirt with them while taking their orders. She reminded me of the nurse, because guess what? The waitress was hot too. Not just any hot, but a slightly poor man's version of Alyssa Milano on her better days.

This was my own personal hell. Had to be. The pretty people everywhere were going to drive me insane. The waitress looked over at me and asked if I wanted anything else. I asked for a bullet to the head and she just laughed cheerfully and sauntered off to the bar. Dean gave me a dirty look. I pretended I didn't notice.

"Find anything interesting while playing dress up?" I asked them and studied my glass. Pretty. Clear. And hey, made of glass!

"We didn't play dress up." Dean corrected. Good. I'd have really hated to miss that. I want a repeat of the priest outfits. While I had my camera ready. "Gregory Townsend, the music teacher, died about eight years ago. Car accident."

I feigned interest. "And…?"

"His daughter and her husband died in the accident too, leaving the granddaughter to his wife. The granddaughter died a year later." Dean grinned at Sam. "And Mrs. Townsend _really_ liked Sam."

"Shut up." Sam muttered, looking slightly flushed. I arched an eyebrow and was prepared to say something, but Sam gave me a 'look'. "Don't ask."

Who needed to ask? From the smile on Dean's face and my own imagery skills, I could picture it. I did and, when I snickered, Sam gave me a dirty look.

"Anyway," Sam tried to steer the topic back to important things, "Mrs. Townsend was pretty talkative-"

"Only to you." Dean said. He almost seemed a little put out.

"Aww, Dean couldn't get a little love from a senior citizen?" I faked a sympathetic look. "Don't worry, we can stop by one of the nursing homes in the morning."

"Only if we get to leave you there." Dean said and took a sip of his beer that had arrived during the Sam mocking.

I pelted a peanut in Dean's direction. "You'll have to drag me there first and I'm not into that rough stuff." Before Dean could reply with something that would either make me smack him or quite possibly shut me up, I turned my attention back to Sam. "Continue. _Please_."

"Thanks." Sam muttered with a dry tone. "She said that her husband gave Ava piano lessons four days a week for about three years, all the way until she vanished."

"Four days a week?" I absently ran my finger around the rim of my glass. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"According to the wife, she thought it was because of Ava's talent." Sam said with a sigh. "And then she said it wasn't her talent in music."

I stared at him. "Oh. You mean-"

"Teacher student relations of the extra curricular kind." Dean said and eyed the waitress again.

I made a disgusted face. "Ick. So what happened?"

Sam tapped the table with a pen he'd been playing with. "Mr. Townsend was the last one to see her, but no one ever suspected him of anything."

"Which probably means he killed her and hid the body." I sighed and glanced in the direction I had seen John Winchester. "Wouldn't it be freaky if he managed to hide the body in the statue?"

Silence.

I looked back at them and they were staring at me. "What?"

* * *

"You can't melt down a statue!" I hissed at the Demon Hunter Duo. We were once again at the motel and they were going through their things to find stuff they could use on their little midnight run. 

Dean rifled through a pile of gear with a grunt. "I'm going to regret this, but why not?"

"Let me count the ways. One, you don't even know for sure if he put her there! Two, it's really not that likely, and I was _kidding_ about it anyway. Three, there's a guard. Four, how the fuck are you going to melt it down? Five, are you fucking nuts!"

"We'll figure it out as-"

"Guys!" Sam interrupted us. We both looked over and he pointed to the tv I had left on while they were gone. "We might have a bigger problem."

_"__And in local news, the Ava Montgomery memorial statue in Brook Haven Cemetery was stolen earlier this evening. Police have no leads at this time."_ The news woman droned on about the mysterious deaths surrounding it, but she didn't say anything else we didn't already know.

I looked over at Dean and he noticed. He scowled at me. "What?"

Sam joined me in looking at his brother and Dean started to get frustrated. "Will you both stop looking at me like that?"

"She did say you were pretty." I pointed out.

"Oh come on, you can't think-"

"That she's going to come for you?" Sam finished. "She might."

"Son of a bitch." Dean growled.

"Look at it this way," I said with a shrug. "At least it makes you the king of the Pretty People With Problems."

"Shut up."


	10. Sweet Dreams

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the CW or whatever, and far more talented people than me. But goddess I wish I did own them. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

* * *

**Part 10: Sweet Dreams**

_A group of children giggled gleefully as they played a game of their own making. The 'board' was a simple chalk outline on the sidewalk. They were crouched over it, their hushed tones whispering on the soft breeze._

_I placed a hand over my eyes to keep the glare of the sun from blinding me and frowned at the scene before me. I stood in the front yard of a familiar looking house, but for some reason I couldn't place it. The breeze grew stronger and the skirt of my white sundress danced along with it._

_I had the strong desire to go inside, but the sound of the children laughing stole my attention. I walked over with a cat's curiosity. "What are you doing?" I asked them._

_They continued to laugh, but didn't raise their heads. "We're playing a game!"_

"_What kind of game?"_

_A little girl lifted her head and I froze. Her face was shredded, as if someone had taken a butcher knife to her. Blood dripped down her face and each drop that hit the cement echoed loudly in my ears. Her toothy smile tore at the already thin strips of flesh that were hanging off her face. "The kind that we win."_

_The other children looked up at me, and I screamed._

_

* * *

_

I also rolled out of my bed and I cried out when the pain of surprise from the landing hit me. My hands flew up to cover my mouth as I remembered that I wasn't alone.

In the room adjacent to mine, the Winchesters were snoozing. That wouldn't be a big deal, except for the fact they made me leave the doors connecting the rooms open. I think it was a trust issue. Or a safety issue. Either way, I really didn't need to be shouti-

"What's going on?" The ceiling light came to life and Dean stood in the doorway with his funky looking bed hair and a wicked looking dagger in his hand.

I yanked my sheets tighter around me, which was easy since I was tangled up in them. It wasn't as if I had anything to hide, it was just a black racerback tank and matching shorts, but st-

"Nice outfit." Dean teased.

Mother fucker. Stop interrupting my thoughts, you punk! I scowled at him and folded my arms across my chest. "Shut up."

That eyebrow of his rose and I was oh so tempted to try and shave that off next time he was asleep. He must have found my discomfort amusing, because he laughed. The dagger went onto the nightstand and he offered me his hand. I eyed it warily and made no move to take it.

He sighed. "Come on."

The wary look didn't fade, but I reached out and took the offered hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. I still clutched my sheet with my other hand, and once I had my balance, I sighed. "Thanks." God, that hurt. Really. My pride wanted to commit suicide.

"Now, what happened?"

I shrugged and walked over to the window. I pushed the curtain aside and found myself greeted by the sun starting to rise. Damn. Morning already.

"Either you tell me what made you scream like a banshee or I just assume you're really clumsy in bed."

I opened my mouth to snap at him, but decided not to give him the satisfaction of a good retort. Instead I remained silent and let the curtain fall back into place. Let him suffer the not know-

"Lacey." He didn't bark it. He didn't growl. Maybe he was working on new tactics. If so, it was unnerving.

And damn it. I really wished that he'd stop interrupting my inner monologues. It was annoying. With a sigh, I sat down in the nearest chair. I curled up in it before deciding to reply. "Just another of those dreams, starring the creepy kids from the phone."

Dean didn't look pleased, but could you blame him? "Who died this time?"

"No one." I shook my head. "There was a group of them playing on the sidewalk. I asked them what they were doing and they said playing a game that they win."

"And that had you trying to earn a scream queen role?" He didn't seem to buy it.

"I'll have you know, I'm a damn good screamer." That didn't sound right and the smirk on Dean's face proved it. Must not kill him. "They looked at me. They were.." I shuddered. "..mutilated. These kids.. But they weren't kids. They were just.. Evil. Like that skinner demon. I haven't felt that kind of evil since…" I trailed off. How would I explain a Balrog to him? I couldn't. Not without sounding crazy. "..like ever." I tried to change the subject. "Where's your brother?"

"He woke up and decided to go on a coffee run." He sat down on my bed and ran a hand through his messy hair. "You ever been around evil before this?"

I shrugged and leaned my head back so I could stare at the ceiling. Evil. Balrog. War. Crazed Mary-Sues bent on domination or ruining canon. Angelus's fangs at my throat. None of those things I could actually talk about without being locked up. "Depends on your definition of evil. My sister claims to be a shaman of her own kind. She said that back at our old house we had 'things' in our house. Usually wandering spirits, but none really did anything. You'd catch their familiar scents sometimes.. Erin, that's my sister, claimed that we also had 'shadow people' in the basement. They drove the dogs nuts at times. Sometimes they'd sit on my brother's chest when he was asleep, or drain them both of energy, but I never saw them."

I stopped staring at the ceiling and turned my head to look at Dean. He was actually listening to me. Huh. "Anyway," I continued, "I can't say if it's true or not. They could have been fucking with my head. I mean, my brother actually convinced me that the government really did a medical experiment involving zombies." I watched as a mocking smile grew on Dean's lips. I sat up straight and pointed at him. "Don't even start with me, Mister Testosterone. I was naïve, he was ex-military, and I had a minor case of paranoia." Minor my ass.

Dean laughed and I heard a door from the other room open and shut. A moment later, Sam entered my room with coffee and a bag of donuts.

"What did I miss?" He asked and offered me a cup of coffee. I plucked it from the cardboard carrier with quiet thank you and he offered one to his brother. Once Dean had taken his, Sam sat down in a chair and tossed the donut bag at Dean.

"You missed a live tutorial of Lacey in bed." Dean said with a smug tone.

Sam nearly choked on his coffee and stared at me.

I glared at Dean. "A tutorial you are so in need of." I let out a cry as the bag of donuts sailed toward me. I barely managed to catch it without spilling my drink. "I had another dream." Sam's eyes widened and I repeated the details.

"Do you get these dreams often?" Sam asked me.

After I plucked a glazed donut from the bag I tossed the bag toward him. "Not really." There was the time at Hogwarts.. But that was.. I started to think of the phoenix ring on my finger. One day, I needed to stop wearing the damn thing. "Sometimes I just have nightmares." That much was true. I still dreamt of killing Sue. Guilt sucked. "But not like this. I mean, I've had dreams like the skinner demon before, but they were totally fiction."

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked, now interested.

"Because for one thing, in those dreams, everyone would die." I set my coffee down on the table made a wild hand gesture. "Me, my friends. Innocents. Cameos from fictional characters or celebrities. Mmm. Loved the one with Orlando Bloom… But all of us are alive and kicking. I didn't 'feel' like I did with the last two. Although the dream about the aliens and Alan Thicke clones is still pretty questionable."

I was once again granted that 'look' of theirs. The one that said I was off my rocker. But I just smiled innocently at them and munched on my donut. "So what are we going to do about Dean's new girlfriend?"

"You don't have many friends, do you." Dean glowered at me. I guess he didn't find it as amusing as I did.

"I probably have more than you." I replied with a smirk. "And you aren't allowed to count your bedroom buddies. Those aren't friends, those are mad minutes."

"Jealous?"

"Of the Captain Kirk fetish?" I snorted. Please. "I'll pass. If I actually wanted a social life, I'd get one."

"Knock it off, both of you." Sam broke in. "I really don't want to hear either one of you trade stories about anything that I'd have to pay for on tv."

I finished off my donut and after one gulp of coffee, I stood up. "Fine. But you know what? If I have to be awake now, I feel the strong desire to be clean. So while I kick you both out and take a shower, you can do something useful."

"I already did." Sam grinned. "I woke up early and did some more digging. There's no way the statue could have Ava's remains. It was commissioned overseas."

I stuck my tongue out at Dean as I walked by the bed. "Ha ha. I told you it probably wouldn't be there."

"You were the one who put the idea into our heads in the first place!" Dean accused.

"Would you listen to me if I said that I went to McDonald's with Harry Potter?" I rolled my eyes. Technically it had been a Golden Arches. But it was close enough. "It was a random thought. Christ."

I walked into the bathroom and shut the door just as Dean yelled at me.

"You're crazy, you know that?"

Does the word 'duh' mean anything?

* * *

Nothing feels better than new clothes after a shower. At least to me. But then, again, I've relished being able to change clothes more than once a day on a daily basis since my time in Middle Earth. I loved the outfit I had there, but for Christ's sake, I had missed real clothes. It's one of the few things I get 'girly' about. That and shoes. Although I've always been more of a boot person than anything. Speaking of which, I had only three pairs of shoes with me. A pair of black heels and a pair of athletic shoes that I had bought the day before Dean was released from the hospital. Why the heels? Just in case. There are some places I may need to go that my usual footwear wouldn't be welcome at. Speaking of which, I was still using the boots I'd left the house with. They were a loyal pair of Corcoran II Field Boots. They cost me, but damn it. I loved them. 

Now that we're done with that random monologue about shoes and clothes, let's get to the point. I was done with the morning routine and after being allowed to enter the Winchester's temporary 'inner sanctum' A.K.A. their cheap room, I was greeted by a satisfied looking Sam and a sullen looking Dean. Both of which were also all squeaky clean from the looks of things. Damn. I'd always prided myself on being fast at getting ready, but apparently compared to them, I was still just a girly girl at heart.

That sucked. Really.

"Do I want to know what happened?" I asked. I was having strange thoughts of those Wincest fics I'd always by passed. Was someone unfulfilled here? I really, _really _hoped I wasn't in one of those realities. Because.. Just.. No. I may have a condo in hell reserved just for me, but that part of the special hell? Not my thing. I'll stick with partying with the Robot Chicken guys. You _know_ they were headed for hell.

"I'm driving." Sam announced as he spun my key ring around his finger. "We're going to check out a cabin that Mrs. Townsend said her husband owned. It's about a half hour drive from town."

"And you know this how?" Did I fall asleep in the shower?

"While you were busy doing your hair," Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam called _his_ new girlfriend-"

"HEY!"

Dean ignored Sam's indigent outburst. "-and she told him about the place, probably in the hopes of a nice weekend-"

"You're twisted, you know that?" Sam said.

"I'm not the one taking advantage of a sweet old lady." Dean teased.

"I'm not.." Sam got out of his seat and threw his hands up in the air and headed for the door. "Why couldn't I have had a sister?"

Dean followed after him. "I hate to break it to you, but you _are_ the sister in this family."

I watched them exit the room and I shook my head. "What a pair of id-"

Dean stuck his head back through the open doorway. "If you're coming, start moving your ass."

"I'll move something all right." I muttered and went back to my room to grab my bag. "It'll be my foot up _your _ass."

"I heard that!"

God damn it.


	11. Ladies Night

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the CW/WB or whatever they want to call it now and far more talented people than me. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

Once again, I'd like to thank Weirdbard. More ideas and you know what you said that I _had _to put in here. Another thanks to those of you that have taken the time to give me feedback. Love ya'll.

* * *

**Part 11: Ladies Night**

The car ride wasn't as bad as it could be. I even managed to behave myself and didn't do anything overly annoying.

That of course had to change. "Are we there yet?" I smiled innocently when Dean turned to look at me from the passenger seat.

"If you start that now, I swear to God-"

His threat was interrupted by Iron Maiden's 'Number of the Beast'. Ah. Saved by the bell. I answered my phone and continued to look innocent. "Hello, She-Beast."

My sister's voice was loud and clear. _"Hello, bitchy whore. What did you do now?"_

"Why is it that _I_ always do things? Why can't things be done to me?"

"_Because you're a bad person."_ Now see, if Erin watched Supernatural, I'd think she was trying to quote it. But she didn't. She refused to even give it a try, claiming it was a Buffy rip off. Psh. At least I got my brother addicted. Go me. _"Why's mom freaking out? And what the hell happened to your place?"_

I sighed, fully aware of Dean and Sam listening to my half of the conversation. "Do you want the version I gave mom or do you want the one that could get me locked up in a mental institution?"

"_That one sounds more entertaining. Go with that."_

"I heard my own death on the phone just as someone was breaking down my door. I bolted.. And then I played a game of 'Killer in the Backseat' before almost wrecking my car into a ditch. Instead I just knocked myself out on the steering wheel."

"_So you didn't damage anything important."_

"Shut the fuck up, skank." Ah.. My sisterly relationship was a special one. Couldn't you tell? "So when I came to, a semi truck thing was leaving a hit and run scene, and I helped the people in the car out. Now we're all on the trail of a haunted statue that's killing college chicks and totally wants to boff Dean."

Once again, I was greeted by silence. Sam's eyes had widened and Dean was staring at me. It was like they were shocked I was mentioning this to someone.

Finally, Erin spoke up again. _"Lacey?"_

"Yeah?"

"_Lay off the junk food."_

"But Ho-Ho's are vital part of my cognitive process!" She wouldn't get the reference. She never liked that character. My pal Rick would though. Note to self: Call him later if I'm not dead. Ask him to water my plants. Or at least dust them off.

"_Where are you now?"_

"I'm in my car and I'm being kidnapped by these guys who think that they're hunting demons, but are really just trying to get laid by every woman in the country. No. Wait. That's just Dean. My bad." I heard Erin sigh and I ignored Dean's look of death. "Somewhere in Kentucky, why?"

"_Why are you with these guys you barely know?"_ Ah, trust Erin to at least believe some of my babble.

"Because I don't want to go home yet. Not until I know it's safe."

"_Which will be…?"_

"I don't know. I'll just know when it happens. Look, I have to go. I can't think of any other ways to insult Dean while I'm on the phone with you, and I don't want to insult Sam since he's the one driving now."

"_Fine. Look, call mom tonight. Let her know that you're still ok. If you don't, she's going to pull favors."_

Ugh. God. Not that. Not like it would help any. "Okay. I promise."

"_Good."_ Erin paused. _"Do us all a favor and don't get killed. Funerals aren't cheap."_ She hung up and I sighed, following her move. Hung up the phone. Pocketed the phone. Adjusted my nifty hat. Got stared at by Dean.

"What did I do now?" I asked as Dean shook his head at me.

"You just told her what we're doing."

With a roll of my eyes, I leaned over to tighten my shoelaces. "So? I told you, she's up with the whole shamanism thing. It's not like she hasn't been around weird things. She's had haunting experience, out of body experience, and a minor case of possession." At least, that's what she told me. Yeah, she could have been lying, but unlike my brother, this was stuff she took pretty seriously. Unlike me. At least around my family. "She didn't believe me anyway."

Sam was curious now. "If she's so open minded, why not?"

"Because I have a habit of being a null as she puts it. The weird stuff doesn't happen around me." That used to be so true. "And while I'm completely open to the possibility of everything existing, I never fully believe it until I see it personally."

"That's not the whole truth though, is it." Sam was prodding me for information. Ok. Fine. I'd be semi honest again.

"Okay, I have big habit of rambling and making up outrageous stories. For example, there was this time when I was like, twelve and I was babysitting the boy next door and my younger cousin.. I was trying to scare them, so I made up this bullshit story…" I didn't tell them what it was, "..while they had friends over. They told it to other people.. And I started my own urban legend in town." I felt a little proud of that. I'm a horrible person.

"You did what!" Ooh. The Winchesters exclaimed it in unison. My pride was withering away. Sigh.

"What was it about?" Sam asked, a frown darkening his face.

"I plead the fifth." Come on, it wasn't as if it were going to come to life like the Hell House episode. "Are we there yet?"

"Will you stop that?" Dean snapped and I sighed and pointed past him. He followed the direction and noticed what I'd noticed.

A nice, quaint, disheveled cabin hidden beyond a dirt road, surrounded by trees.

I could imagine the fire hazard all around us. I wonder if they'd let me burn anything.

* * *

The cabin itself wasn't too shabby. It was old, but pretty well kept for a place no one had been in for years. There was a nice old fireplace in the living room, along with an extremely dusty grand piano. Ok, so everything was dusty and I _know_ I saw a nasty looking spider crawling along the couch. Eww. 

At the moment though, I was staring at some of the photos on the mantelpiece as Dean and Sam were discussing their next move.

"We'll finish looking around here, then we'll check out the cellar." Dean ordered.

"Do you really think he hid her here?" I asked. "I mean, we're just going on really loose leads."

A haunting melody filled the room and we all turned to the old piano as the ivory keys played on.

"I'd say that's a yes." Sam said.

"Aww.. She's playing Dean's song." It was the wrong time to tease, but come on, I had to say it. It was totally worth the glare Dean gave me. I smiled at him, knowing full well it was a dangerous situation.

But the smile faded as soon as a floorboard creaked. We turned and there she was. Ava the bronze, in her metal glory, was standing in the doorway with a serene smile. Her attention was all on Dean. "So.. Pretty."

You know that problem I have with not keeping my mouth shut? This was one of those time when I wish I had a mute button. "Hey you, bronze bitch!" Shit, she actually started to look at me. "Stop ogling the e-"

And that was when I had my first official taste of the Winchester Wall syndrome. Meaning? The wall and I got to know each other well when I was slammed into it by an unseen force.

Can we all say ow? Good, I knew we could.

After hitting the floor, I was disoriented but I could hear a few phrases that included a shout from Sam. I think he had tried to distract her too. Then I heard a crash. I looked up in time to see Sam after he hit an old bookcase. Some books fell on top of him, but luckily, the shelves stayed intact. Sturdy workmanship.

"Sam!" Dean cried out as Ava started heading for Sam. "Hey! You want me? Come and get me!"

Ava looked over at him and he ran out the front door. She followed him without looking back.

I got up as quickly as I could, which really wasn't that fast considering I had just married a wall. Plus, I think I had a splinter in my shoulder. I rushed over to Sam and helped him up. "Do we go after Dean?"

The look on his face said it all. Christ. He was going to chase after him. He gave me a serious look. "Find the body. I'll go help Dean."

Then he ran off.

Leaving me alone.

"Fuck!" I stomped my foot in frustration. Ok. Take a breath. Think. If I were a freak who wanted to kill my pianist.. And god damn it, that music was still playing.

I stalked over to the piano and a twisted idea thought sprung to mind. For the record, twisted ideas and me go hand in hand. But this one was even less likely than the body in the statue thought. But I opened the piano anyway, just in case.

There was no body. But there _was_ a small and tightly wrapped bag taped inside. The tape was old, almost a decade if I took a guess. I yanked the bag off and started tearing away at the plastic.

The smell of rotted corpse smacked me in the face as I stared at the pair of hands that lay inside of the bag.

"That was one sick fucker." I said and stared in disbelief. The sound of gunshots nearly caused me to drop my find but I was knocked back into business. I ran over to the fireplace and tossed the hands inside. After mimicking what I'd seen the guys do on the show with the salt and all that, which they'd left in the cabin by the way, I looked around for a lighter.

Normally I have one of my own, but I'm sorry, I left mine in my other reality. I cast a frustrated look around. Just like a guy to leave me hanging. Then I groaned. Sitting on the mantelpiece was an old box of matches. Duh me. I struck a match, hoping it'd light, and thankfully, it did.

"Ashes to ashes, Ava." I murmured and threw the match onto the soaked limbs.

Fire pretty. Fumes, not so much.

I really hoped that was the only thing I needed to find. I headed for the door and started shouting. "Are you guys dead? Because I want my car keys back if you are!"

Was it heartless? A little. But I thought it was funny.

I wandered further outside and scanned the area. I wasn't too slow was I? Was there more body? Was th-

"That was too easy."

"AGH!" I screamed. Yes, I screamed. I spun around, one hand on my chest and the other over my mouth. A disheveled pair of Winchesters were standing there and they were snickering at my state.

I shoved them both . "Oh my fucking god, don't _do_ that to me! Why in the hell would you do that?"

Dean winced and I realized I'd shoved him around his heart. My hands flew to my mouth and my eyes went wide. "Oh god, I'm sorry. Wounded prey still. I forgot. Oh, fuck me. I'm-" I groaned at the cocky grin he gave me. "That wasn't an offer."

"That didn't take you long," Sam interrupted before any bitchy banter could start up. "What happened?"

"I found her hands in the piano." I said with a nonchalant shrug. I was feeling cool now. Go me. Not only did I save the day, but I got to play with fire. "Pretty sick, no? Where's the bronze?"

They exchanged a look and Sam motioned for me to follow them. "Come on."

I followed with a curious frown. We headed into the woods and next to a tree was the statue. Only she didn't match the photos I'd seen anymore. She was standing up, her arms outstretched, one hand clutching a piece of torn fabric.

I walked closer to get a better look and I waved a hand in front of her face. She didn't move. But her once serene face was now twisted with rage. I tugged on the cloth until it gave way. It matched the jacket Dean was wearing. I looked over and sure enough, his collar was torn. I offered him the torn piece. "I'm surprised you didn't try to seduce her into leaving you alone."

"I'm not into statutory rape." Dean said and snatched the fabric from my hand.

Sam and I groaned. "That was terrible." Sam said.

"You should be ashamed." I added.

Dean grinned. "I am, kind of."

* * *

Back at the motel, and yes I behaved myself on the car ride, I lounged on my bed as I flipped through channels. The guys had gone out to get lunch, and I had wanted to clean up. Again. 

I'm sorry, but the smell of rotting corpse does not make a good perfume.

Flip. News. Flip. Scrambled porn. Flip. Monster truck rally. Flip. The Goonies. Flip. Static. Flip back. Static.

I felt a chill go down my spine as the static on the television screen cleared up. I was staring at a darkened room with one lone hooded figure standing to the side of the screen.

The voice from the tv was quiet. _"Are you having fun yet?"_

I didn't answer, but I worked my way off the bed and kept trying to change the channel. Every station was the figure.

"_We want to welcome you.. Don't you want to say hi?"_ The figure didn't move.

"What are you watching?" Sam asked. I snapped my head over to him in surprise. I hadn't even heard him come in.

"_Hello, Sam."_ The figure turned so their back was toward us. _"Jess says hello."_

Sam paled and an angry look appeared on his face. You know that angry twitch/tick thing he gets when he's really growly? Oh yeah, it was so there. "You son of a.. What the hell is this?"

"_Do you want to see something fun?"_ The figure walked to the middle of the screen and removed their hood. It was a little girl. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her pink Sunday dress was faded and burnt. She smiled sweetly at us both. _"It's his move now."_

Before our eyes, the girl put a hand to her face.. And with an inhuman strength, ripped the flesh right off. There was no scream and she kept smiling as she skipped closer, the blood flowing everywhere. Her blood covered hand reached out and it seemed as if she were touching the screen.

The image turned to static as her childish laughter filled the room.

Her bloody handprint was still on the screen and the blood slowly dripped onto the cheap carpet.


	12. Touch

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the CW/WB or whatever they want to call it now and far more talented people than me. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

* * *

**Part 12: Touch**

There are times when you have to look back on your life and wonder, 'What got me here?' There are times when you have to think, 'Is everything I am a lie?' or 'What kind of world is it that we live in?'.

And then there are moments when you have to ask, "Why the fuck doesn't this have my song on here?" I had to curb the impulse on kicking the damn jukebox in front of me. Stupid piece of moronic shit. God damn- Oh. You're confused, right now.

After we had told Dean what we saw on the tv, we quickly cleaned the blood up and left town. There wasn't anything else to do anyway. And I'll tell you right now, I did not kick anyone in the front seat. Nor did I call anyone names. I _can _be a good girl. Now we were in a bar just outside some little town at the edge of Kentucky and Virginia border. Why? Because we needed gas and money. I'm sorry, but I had a budget. I wasn't going to use all my money on things for all of us. Hell, it was taking all of my self control not to force a stop at a Wal-Mart so I could get me a Nintendo DS and some games to play. Argh. Gamer withdrawal was so not cool. So Dean decided to try and hustle some pool. He did a pretty good job at it, though it got iffy for a moment. When I mentioned it to him, he said if I didn't shut up, he'd throw me in as a wager. Only he made it sound a lot ruder.

Sam wandered over to where I was with a curious smile. "Do I even want to know why you look ready to kill the jukebox?"

"It doesn't have my song." I whined. I was _very _good whiner.

"What?" There was confusion in his eyes. Eyes that I had to look up to see. Damn it. Why did I always have to be around tall people? They needed to shrink.

"Every person has a theme song. I wanted to hear mine while I pretended to drink."

"I'll bite. What's your song?" Sam asked. "And while you're at it, what's mine?"

I quirked my head to the side and thought about it. What _was_ Sam's theme? That was hard for me to decide. I must have been frowning, because Sam sighed. "Erm.. Sorry." I allowed myself to be apologetic for that. "But I don't think I've come up with yours yet. Heh. Give me time! But mine is a song called 'Imperfection' by Saving Jane. It's actually just one song on the soundtrack that is Lacey."

Sam chuckled. "So you get your own soundtrack? Why is that?"

"Because I'm a very complicated, yet special, person." I smiled and turned back to the machine. A song listing caught my eye and my smile grew wider. I started to put money in and punch in the numbers. I stopped before hitting the last one and looked over at Dean, who was flirting with the pretty bartender. "But I found Dean's." I grinned and hit the last button.

The song started playing. _"I wanna make every woman I see…"_

Sam burst out laughing. Ahh.. 'Heterosexual Man' by Odds. If that didn't scream Dean Winchester, at least partly, I didn't know what did. And I'd like to thank a certain community in Livejournal for bringing it to my attention. Seriously. Love those people.

I risked stealing a look at Dean to find that the bartender was now giggling and Dean was giving me a glare that said I was going to pay for this.

I just waved merrily at him. It was oh so worth it.

"He's going to kill you." Sam managed to say between laughs.

I thought back to their prank war in one of the episodes. Crap. Crap in a half. This was not good. But the fact that the bartender was now currently laughing too hard to take Dean's flirting seriously? It made it worth it.

I smiled innocently at Sam. "I have to die sometime. I may as well make it a grand farewell." I practically bounced over to our table. I was feeling pretty damn smug.

Sam, who had followed me, sat down, his laughter finally subsiding. "I'm serious. It's going to evolve into a war and Dean can be-"

"I can be what, little brother?" Dean hovered over us and he was not a happy camper. It didn't stop my moment though.

"You know full well what you can be." Sam said, nonplussed by Dean's sudden appearance. "I'm just warning her. She has a right to know what she's started."

Dean had a smile of his own. It was almost evil. _That _was not cool. So I narrowed my eyes and glowered at him. "First of all, Mr. Winchester, if you so much as do anything to make me itch, ruin my few belongings, or do anything to damage my hair or flesh in any way, I can promise you that one morning you will wake up missing a _very_ vital part of your anatomy."

Dean's eyes narrowed in return. "Is that a challenge?"

I shook my head. "No. It's a promise. And keep in mind, you owe me. Three." Yup. If all else fails, pull the debt card. I'm not ashamed to waste them now.

That caught both Winchesters' attention. "Exactly how do you figure that?"

I started counting them off on my fingers. "The car accident, that's one. You can either count my car or the fact that I stashed some important stuff of yours as two. And number three? Your metalhead girlfriend."

I did my best not to gloat as Dean grumbled irritably. He sat down and didn't stop scowling. Sam just snickered and took a sip of his drink. Me? I started looking around the room.

You'd think I'd stop doing that by now. Stupid habits. Something ducked underneath a table and it caught my eye. Sam was talking to Dean and neither of them were paying attention. I mumbled a quiet excuse and got back out of my seat to follow that something. I felt something brush past leg and I took a startled step back as I looked down.

A red ball rolled past my feet and out the open door.

I should know better. I should.

But I followed it anyway.

The cool night air was refreshing when compared to the bar's smells of smoke, beer, and lord knew what else. It was November now. At least in this reality it was. Back in mine, it'd be June I think. Christ. I missed my birthday. Isn't that a bitch? The thought that I might not make it home for the holidays struck me suddenly. I've never missed those with the family. Even when I moved from town, I'd still head back every year.

The time difference was confusing me. I was thankful that when I got out of this mess that I'd be right back where I started, the same day I le- Wait a minute. The other times this happened it all started when I fell asleep. I was awake when this one started. I haven't run into any other Mary-Sues. …. What was I involved in?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and I saw the ball roll around the corner of the building. Did I follow it?

Why yes, yes I did. You can groan and say "What the fuck are you thinking!" But it wouldn't do any good. I was compelled to follow.

I turned down the corner of the building and was greeted by an empty parking lot.

Ok.

I frowned and turned around to go back inside, but the bar was gone.

That wasn't cool.

"Do you know what it's like to die?"

I spun around at the familiar voice, but again, the lot was empty. The air grew colder and I shivered, though I was pretty sure it wasn't the temperature's fault.

"I could peel the skin off your flesh in a matter of moments." My eyes widened and I froze. That voice.. Too close. I could feel the heat from his breath on the back of my neck. I dared to take a step forward and a hand was suddenly holding me by the throat. He began whispering something I couldn't understand and the next thing I knew, I was slammed into the pavement.

Pain shot through me and I looked up to see a grinning face inches away from mine. He was fast. Too fast. He reached for my face….

"Hey! You alive in there?"

I was so startled by the sudden shift in my sense of reality that I nearly fell out of my chair, even as Dean waved a hand in front of my face. The sounds and smells of the bar filtered back into my sense of awareness and I fought the urge to panic. Instead, I took Dean's bottle of beer and downed it quickly, ignoring the confused looks they gave me.

I wasn't a drinker, but I think it was needed this time. I nearly slammed the bottle back down on the table. "Alive? Sure. Sane? I'm not so sure anymore." I was tempted to glom Dean and thank him for his wonderful timing, but I didn't. Instead I flagged down a waitress and ordered me some vodka. Yeah. I really needed a drink.

The waitress set my glass in front of me, but before I could take it, Dean stole it from me. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put you over my knee for stealing my beer."

"Because you can't afford my rates." I snapped. "Now quit holding my drink hostage."

"What happened? You were in a good mood two minutes ago." Sam looked concerned.

I bit my lower lip sank down in my chair. I closed my eyes with a tired sigh. "Only two minutes?"

"What are you babbling about now?" That was Dean of course.

"I zoned mentally." God, at least it wasn't a time loop where I had no memory of what happened. I hated those. Should I tell them? Explain myself? I took a deep breath. "I just.. Blanked. Maybe I have a migraine coming on or something."

Yeah, that's right. I didn't share this time. Why bother? "May I please have my drink? I promise to buy you another beer."

I could hear a grunt from Dean and I had a feeling the boys were giving each other looks. But when I opened my eyes, my glass was free and I happily drank it down. Well, not happily, but it was welcome.

It took everything I had not to get drunk right then and there.

* * *

I couldn't sleep. Well, that wasn't entirely true. I managed to get a couple of hours of sleep, but that was it. At the moment, I was laying in my bed with a frown. I stared at the ceiling and tried to shut out the growing thoughts in my head.

"_You know she's not telling us everything."_

I didn't move. Huh. The Winchesters were still awake and trying to talk about me. I think.

"_You're not going to bitch about how you don't trust her, are you?"_ Ah, Sam. Such a nice boy.

"_It's about survival, Sam. Even if she's not plotting something, whatever it is that she's hiding could get us killed. If you want her to be your sidekick, fine. She's at least trying to pull her own weight. But I want to know everything."_

Sidekick? I'm a freaking sidekick? Gee, thanks ever so much, Dean. Meh. Then again, better to be a sidekick than a third wheel. I scowled and tried to listen for more, but they had lowered their voices even more. Damn it.

I turned over onto my side and released a calming breath. At least it was meant to be calming. But it wasn't. I clutched my pillow and wished silently for one of my penguins.

Yes, I collect penguins. And yes, I actually slept with a stuffed penguin. Sometimes. It was calming. Soothing.

I'm a sad sad woman.

Time passed. Maybe minutes. Maybe an hour. I didn't know. What I did know was that I couldn't take it anymore. I need to get out of there. I felt as if something were suffocating me and I needed freedom. I needed air. I tossed my blankets aside and slid out of bed. I grabbed the pair of jeans I had been wearing earlier, which I had also left on the floor, and quickly pulled them on over my shorts. I looked around for my shirt, but it was to dark to see. I muttered mentally and instead pulled my socks on and grabbed my jacket. I clutched it closed and after grabbing my shoes, I slipped out my door as quietly as I could.

As soon as I was out the door, I slipped my shoes on and started walking away from the motel while zipping my coat up. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I just needed to go. Anywhere.

Two corners later was when I saw it. My kryptonite. One of them anyway.

There was an empty park. With swings. Swings! I admit it. I loved swing sets. I always have and lord helped me, I wanted to swing this very second. I didn't know if there was a curfew, and I didn't know if the park had a closing time, but I didn't give a fuck.

Because, you know. Swings.

Two minutes later, possibly less, I was sitting on a swing and rocking myself on it with my heels into the ground. I sat like that for a few more minutes with my eyes closed, just basking in the moment.

Chains rustled next to me and my grip on my swing tightened.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" It was an almost soothing and feminine voice. I dared to open my eyes and turn my head to the swing next to me. Sitting in the swing next to me was a woman that looked about my age. Her chestnut colored hair was pulled into a French braid and she wore a comfortable looking jogging suit of the name brand variety. She was pretty, but not overwhelmingly so. "I thought I was the only person to come out here at night."

"Just passing through town. I couldn't sleep, so I decided I needed a walk. So.." I shrugged. "Here I am. What about you?"

"I normally work the nights, so it's the only time I have to get my daily run in." Her green eyes studied me and her mouth had a curious frown. "You look like you could use an ear." She offered me a smile and held out her hand. "I'm Gina."

I wasn't getting any bad vibes off of her and frankly it was nice to talk to someone with less testosterone than the Winchesters. I shook her hand with a small smile of my own. "Lacey. So what makes you think I need to talk?"

Her eyes lit up with mirth. "The fact that you're sitting in an empty park after curfew and actually talking to a perfect stranger was a tip."

"And here I thought it was because of the big neon sign I was wearing above my head." I pushed myself into the air on the swing. "I'm just having one of those 'What am I doing here' and 'What use am I' kind of moments."

Gina joined me in the swinging. "I never could see the point in those questions. All they do is depress you in the end. I say just enjoy the ride while you can and do the best you can doing it."

"Easy for you to say." I mumbled.

"So where are you headed?" I must have looked confused because she tried to explain herself. "You said you were passing through."

"Oh yeah." Shrug from me. "I don't know. I'm just on this random road trip with some guys."

"Boyfriend and buddies?"

I burst out laughing. "Oh god, no. Just… no. It's complicated."

"Oh." She tiled her head. "But they're your friends, right?"

"Kind of. Maybe. I don't know." I frowned, more at myself than anything. "I don't think they like me much. But I fully admit to it being my fault. I like antagonizing them." Especially Dean. It was just too easy.

She smiled at me. "Guys are so simple that way."

* * *

I never did go back to sleep. I ended up staying in the park talking to Gina until sometime after four in the morning. It was no big deal, mostly stupid stories from high school and the wonders of guys with various forms of delusions. And cars. We talked cars. Not how they work but just the fact that we knew what kind we liked.

The two of us parted ways with cheerful smiles and I headed for a truckstop that was near the motel. I knew I wasn't going to ever get sleep, so I figured I may as well get coffee and some food.

I liked junk food as much as the next average American, but I've learned from experience that you have to attempt to eat healthy at some point. So I was sitting in a booth and sipping my third cup of coffee (okay, so that wasn't very healthy) while finishing off my healthy little veggie omelet when the paperboy, if you could call him that, delivered the morning papers to the diner.

I frowned and checked the clock on the wall. I had to considering my watch was back on the nightstand in my room. It was six am. Huh. Crap. I briefly wondered if the boys noticed me gone, and part of me felt guilty for leaving. Another part of me, the self centered bitch part that pretty much dictated most of my behavior, decided I didn't give a fuck.

I set my coffee down and went to get myself a paper. I plucked one off the stack of newspapers by the door and wandered back to my seat. Small town papers were usually pretty boring.

I realized this wasn't the case as I began to read and sipped my coffee.

_Local Police Officer Found Dead in Jenning's Memorial Park._

Huh. That was the park I had been in. I frowned and read on.

_The town of Oliver, Virginia was struck another blow to their morale as another body was found Tuesday evening._

My frown increased as the article rambled a bit about some local murders and how they had someone in custody, but with the newest development while the suspect was in jail.. Blah blah.

_The victim, Officer Gina Manteau…_

I froze. Gina? My attention switched immediately to the photo with the article and it was of the woman I had just spoke to most of the night. She was wearing a police uniform and staring straight ahead with a serious look. I bit down on my lower lip and I hesitantly returned to the article, only to find mentions of the victims being skinned.

Skinned. Gina. His turn. Oh god.

My coffee cup fell from my grasp and hit the table with a clatter. It didn't break, but I barely noticed as it rolled off the table and shattered onto the floor.


	13. Closing In

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the CW/WB or whatever they want to call it now and far more talented people than me. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

* * *

**Part 13: Closing In**

As soon as I entered my room, I was greeted by two very annoyed looking Winchesters sitting in chairs they had set a few feet in front of the doorway. Both of them had their arms folded across their chests and I felt my heart lurch as I shut the door. I didn't have time for this. I didn-

"Where the fuck have you been?" Dean should never say the word fuck. It put too many ideas in one's head and I seriously couldn't deal with my wandering mind now.

"What are you, my mother?" I snapped and took off my coat. I tossed it to the floor with my newspaper and stalked past them, heading for the other side of the room. "Because if you want that job, you'll need a better rack and more personality."

I didn't get far, because Dean was on his feet in a flash and had grabbed my arm, spinning me around. His angry gaze tried to burn holes in me. Ah, if looks could kill.. "You do _not_ disappear on us like that."

I tried to wrench my arm free, but he had a good grip. "Is manhandling a part of your usual foreplay or is this something special just for my benefit?"

"You want us to trust you." Sam started to say. He was annoyed too, but he was taking a more cautious approach. Good cop, bad cop. I got it. At the thought of 'cop' , I had to force myself not shiver. "But we can't really do that if you don't give a little."

I took a breath and counted silently to ten. "I couldn't sleep and I had to get out of here."

Sam frowned at me. "Where did you go?"

"There's a park not too far from here.. I ended up sitting on the swings for a few hours." My thoughts went back to Gina and I bit down on my lip again. Oh god. Ever since I left the truckstop, all I could see was her, skinned like those people hanging from the ceiling in that vision.

His turn now. What piece are you. Playing a game. What a time for my thoughts to click into place now. Oh god.

"You were on a swingset for hours." Dean snorted. "I'm not buying it, sister."

"I don't care if you buy it or not." I growled and finally rescued my arm from his grip. "I was there. I ended up talking to someone. Just bullshitting. She was nice… And now she's dead!"

That caught their attention. Cue the Winchester Look. Sam stood up and walked over to me. "What do you mean? What happened?"

I shook my head and stared at the newspaper on the floor. Sam must have noticed, because he picked it up and skimmed it.

"This happened on a Tuesday. It's Wednesday." I could tell Sam wasn't quite sure what I was getting at.

"I talked to her." I said, my voice quiet. "She showed up while I was sitting on the swing. We talked. It was nice. She was nice. She was.. Alive. I thought she was. But then.." I shook my head and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to protect myself from something. Anything. "I went to the truckstop. I got food. I got a paper. And I read that.. She was skinned. Like those people in that dream or vision or whatever. _He_ did this. _His_ turn. Like the girl on the tv said."

I looked up at them and I knew I was about ready to panic. "This is all a game. Don't you get it? We're all pieces for some fucked up game and I can't do anything because I don't know the rules!" My voice rose and I stepped away from them as my thoughts danced like mad. "For fuck's sake, we're being used and it's not all happy go lucky, hey look I'm fighting the supernatural things that crawl around in the dark with the uber urban legendaryness, fun. It's innocent people dying just to get _us_ to where _they_ want us! That bitch in your dream killing Dean. Those fucking little kids. The bastard flaying people and whatever has your dad as its current host."

And if my growing hysteria didn't have their attention, that last sentence did.

"What about our dad?" Fuck, Dean was pissed now. If I wasn't so close to hysteria land I might actually have been a bit scared. Yay for panic attacks. "What the hell haven't you told us?"

"Back in Maplewood.." I tried to calm myself down, because I knew I was in for a some explaining at this point. "In the bar while you guys were talking to the Townsend woman. I saw him. He was watching me and his eyes.. That smile.." I couldn't resist shuddering this time. Not with everything whirling in my mind. "It was the same mocking vibe from the skinner. From the kids. It was all wrong and not right and I knew whatever was home in there was not your dad."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asked. You could tell he was restraining his own frustration at this point.

"Because you never showed me a picture of him." I pointed out. An angry Winchester Look was my gift. "I shouldn't know what he looks like."

Dean scowled at me. "But you do. How." It was an order, not a question.

Fuck fuck fuck. Think fast. "I looked through that journal after I took it." Good girl. Not the whole truth, but enough of it to shut them up. "It was personal and I invaded privacy by doing it. I'm sorry. But you just.. I hate this!"

My back was against the wall now and I leaned my head against it, letting them take in what I was babbling. I almost blew it. Almost broke. I was so close to just spilling everything. The Mary-Sue crap. The reality jumping. As it was, I was starting to think those parts may not be as important this time.

"You still could have told us about our dad." I could hear how tense Sam was and I knew he was trying not to go off the handle.

"I wasn't really sure if it was real or if it was just my fucked up mind playing tricks on me." I closed my eyes and slid down the wall. "This is all fucking with my head. I just want to go home, but I know that I can't. I have to see this out. I have to play this game and so do you."

Silence.

"We're fucking screwed." I murmured. My last conscious thought was that at least I hadn't cried.

* * *

I didn't dream. That was something I was grateful for. I knew I was awake, but I didn't open my eyes. How did I know I was awake? I could hear the boys talking. Something about patterns and what not about the skinning murders. 

Oddly, the voices weren't coming from the room next door. I turned over and opened my eyes.

I was not in my bed. I was in the Winchesters' room. Leaning against a wall near the bed I was stretched out on was Dean, no doubt taking a moment from pacing the floor and giving me dirty looks. Sam looked to be playing research boy on the laptop at the table.

I frowned. Only that was _my _laptop. I sat up on the bed just enough to prop myself on my arm and I leaned my head to the side. "Did you figure out my password yet?"

"No, and I've tried-" Sam stopped his typing and glanced up at me. "Want to make this easier on all of us?"

I sighed and ignored the scowling look of doom that Dean was giving me. Great. Square one on that front. "Walk through the fire."

Instead of asking what the heck I was talking about, Sam resumed typing. "Any capital letters?"

"No. I'm too lazy. And before you ask, it's a lyric from a song in the Buffy episode 'Once More With Feeling'." Yes, I was taking it all in stride. I had nothing to hide on my laptop. For the most part I only kept my writing and resources on there. It's not as if I had porn on there.

"Diner Dash?" Sam smirked at me. Huh. I guess he had calmed down at least. "I have that."

"It's addicting like crack.. Which I find odd since I work in the food service industry." I slid back into the bed and got comfy again. It really was a comfortable bed. Better than the one in my room. "I have Nanaca Crash on there too. Nothing says time killer like hitting a guy with a bike and letting others beat the crap out of him."

Dean was watching me like a hawk. "Enjoying yourself? You seem pretty calm after your breakdown earlier."

I gave him a steely gaze. "That was not a breakdown. Breakdowns include crying. That was a moment of panic. I'm better now. And yes, I'm having oh so much fun."

"Women always do in my bed."

I heard Sam sigh as he went through the contents of my laptop. I arched an eyebrow at Dean. "I'm sure they do. And usually it's when you've finally left them alone in it." There was that death glare again. I sighed and closed my eyes. "Whatever it is you think you're looking for on my laptop, you won't find it."

"Why's that?" Sam asked me.

"Because I don't clutter my laptop with the usual personality type of stuff." I explained as I burrowed under the blankets. Comfy. It took me a moment to remember this was Dean's bed and when I did I stopped instantly. I pulled the pillow over my head, hoping to suffocate myself. "It's strictly for writing and-"

"You have a ton of bookmarks for the supernatural on here." Sam pointed out to me.

I sighed. "I told you. I use that stuff for writing and-"

"Bloody-Disgusting dot Com?"

"I like horror movies." Why did I have to explain myself about that? Did they not notice that most of the reading material in my car happened to be Fangoria magazines? Hello? Observant much? I let out a yelp as the pillow over my face was stolen from me. Dean was staring down at me with that soldier boy look, so I stared back at him with the same resolve I had when I faced Aragorn and decided I was fighting in Helm's Deep.

Take that buddy. If I could face a king I could face you.

"Don't get drool on my pillow." Dean snapped and whacked me on the chest with said object. I yelped, more out of surprise than anything, and he sat himself down on the bed. With an expression that told me to slide over, I rolled my eyes and did so. He put the pillow behind him and leaned against the headboard. He folded his arms across his chest and looked kind of menacing. At least he would be if I weren't me.

I guess I wasn't going to get a happy in that bed now. That thought made me giggle and I received a confused look from him as I moved around to have them both in my line of sight. "I'm sorry."

That had them both staring at me again. I guess I sounded more serious than I had intended. Deep breath. "I'm sorry for not sharing sooner. I'm sorry I ran off. I'm just.. Sorry. And if you ask me anything right now, I'll share what I know." Well, everything but the alternate reality and Mary-Sue crap.

"This game bullshit." Dean apparently decided to take me up on my share offer. "What made you think up that?"

I glanced up at him. "There are always mentions or hints about games, turns, and playing in all these visions and shit. Sam even mentioned he heard dice rolling in his nightmare about you. Then you have me coming from nowhere who needs help just when you needed help. The coincidences are too many. Do the math. Something wants us."

"Something always wants us." Muttered Sam. He must not have found anything of interest on my laptop, because he closed it. Told him so. "What makes you think it's more than one?"

I frowned. Why did I think that? How to explain my gut feeling.. "It's.. a feeling."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh great. We're destined to survive by PMS."

I slapped him in the arm and we exchanged stab happy looks at each other. "That's not what I meant. It's just.. I've seen the kids and I've seen the skinner. They both had two different evils going for them. It just.. They felt wrong but they were different from each other. I'm just guessing on the woman in Sam's portion of the program."

Sam slid my laptop to the side. "And our dad?"

"Another guess." I shrugged. It was a guess. "Logically speaking, the best way to get you two where you're wanted would be to use your dad, right?" The look in their eyes confirmed that as a big yes. "Anything else? Or can I now focus on trying to track the thing that killed Gina?" I wanted to slay that fucker.

And when I was done with him, I was going to take on that fucking bitch too. Because if anyone was going to kill Dean, it was going to be me.

But first I had to find out how to kill a nasty demon thing without using that colt.

Where was Buffy when you needed her?


	14. Everybody's Fool

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the CW/WB or whatever they want to call it now and far more talented people than me. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

Apologies for not getting this out sooner, but I was distracted by shiny objects. Damn Star Wars kick and Kingdom Hearts 2.. I also apologize any blatant mistakes.

* * *

**Part 14: Everybody's Fool**

"You guys have to be kidding me."

"Do we look like we're kidding?"

"I'm not doing that!"

"You're going to do it and you're going to like it."

"Like hell I am! Do I look like one of your little lust bunnies?"

"Of course not. You're lacking in th- OW! Why did you hit me for?"

"You were being rude."

"Oh, come on! She left herself open for it."

"Just like most of your dates."

"Am I going to have to hit you too?"

"That depends. Can I-"

"No."

"But I-"

"NO."

"… You suck."

"I thought that's what you did. OW!"

"Ha ha. He-OW! Damn it!"

"I should have been an only child."

* * *

I sighed inwardly as I walked up the sidewalk in my black heels. I knew they'd be handy. I was wearing a simple business suit and my hair was pulled back in one of those severe looking buns. You know, the ones where you think the woman has a stick shoved up her ass. I was going to kill them for this. I really was. While they were off playing cops and robbers, they left me to take care of some other information. 

I stopped and gazed at the elementary school in front of me. Dean, yes Dean, had found that at least two of the skinner victims over the past year were children attending the local elementary school. I placed my best serious, yet bitchy, expression on my face as I strode purposely up the steps and into the front doors.

Ah. The smell of grade school education slapped me in the face and made me wish for happier times. Like recess, art projects, and the wonders of student of the week. The sound of my heels echoed off the empty halls as I made my way toward the main office. Once there, I practically sneered at the poor secretary at the desk while pushing my glasses up on my nose.

"My name is Eleanor Whitmore. I'm with the State School Board office." I knew right then and there that if I ever had kids, this was going to bite me in the ass. The clueless looking secretary, which I thanked God for, stared blankly at me, her mouth open. "I'd like to speak to Principal McKeon. _Now_."

The poor woman blinked as she stiffened in her seat. "Do you have an appointment?"

"When it concerns the very nature of our children's safety, I think an appointment is the least of your problems."

* * *

Oh my god. McKeon was _boring_. Completely. Utterly. I was close to reaching over the desk and strangling him with my bare hands. He went on and on about how children were safe here and that they were hiring a security guard this week.. You could tell he was full of it. He was trying to smooth talk his way out of a bad situation. 

Buddy, you had no idea how bad it was.

There was a soft knock as the secretary stood in the doorway. "Excuse me, sir, but Kenny Prince and Timmy Martin got into another fight. The nurse has them in her office."

McKeon practically leapt out of his seat. "I'd better take care of this. Please, wait here, Ms.Whitmore. I'll be back as soon I can."

Then the two were gone. Apparently the secretary didn't want to be near me either. I stood up and rushed over to the file cabinet. Please don't be locked, please don't be..

Ooh. Watch that drawer slide open. Such lack in security here. I'd be annoyed if it weren't working in my favor. I started looking through the files, trying to find the ones of the dead kids.

Margaret Fenton and Eric Spencer. One second grader and a kindergartner. God. What the fuck.

With the files in hand, I looked around for a copy machine. I wasn't too worried. If I couldn't find or use it, I'd just use my camera. But yay! One right in the main office. I rushed over and got to work on copying the files, making sure to pay attention to any sounds coming from the hall.

Nothing happened.

Lady luck must have liked me today. I even had time to put the files back where I got them. I slipped back into my seat just as I heard the principal and his secretarial shadow return. I scowled outwardly. Look pissed and grouchy. I needed to get out of here.

"Ah, I'm sorry about the wait. You know ho-"

"Quite." I said stiffly and stood up. I glowered at him. "I believe this is the part where I say I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"Oh.." He swallowed nervously. "Leaving already?"

"I've wasted enough time waiting on you to take the board's concerns seriously. I'll be letting them know what I found out." I added a little 'hmph' sound and headed for the doors. "Good day, Mr. McKeon."

* * *

I hated our motel. I really hated it. Just for once on this stupid 'adventure' I'd like a place with a kitchen. Sure, I couldn't cook, but I was already sick of eating out. 

Plus my wallet was mewing unhappily. I couldn't help but wonder if we could get a place with a stove for Thanksgiving. A little much to ask, I know. But I've cooked a Thanksgiving meal in my day. Not that any of us really had anything to be thankful for. … Ok, maybe I could get away with whining for one around Christmas time.

I guess my bitter hatred for the motel was the reason I was sitting on the sidewalk outside the door. I was sucking on a Strawberries & Cream Chupa Chups Creamy Pop as I looked through my stolen goods. Suckers rocked.

The files themselves weren't anything impressive. By that I meant, nothing stood out. I think the boys sent me to do this just to get out of their hair. If that were the case, I was going to shave their heads in their sleep.

Or at least pretend I could.

But I still had a nagging feeling right at the pit of my stomach. I pulled out Margaret's file again and stared at the black and white Xerox of her photo. Her smiling face was wide eyed and innocent.. But all I could see was blood matted in her hair and her skin littered in a pile at her feet.

Oh god. I hated my mind.. And did that.. I took my lollipop out of my mouth as I stared at the copied photo. There was something familiar about her..

"_Do you want to see something fun?"_

I stiffened as I thought back to the tv in Maplewood. The dream of the kids playing. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Her eyes.. They were the same.

She smiled at me from the picture and then her hand lifted in front of her face. Margaret giggled and made a 'shh' gesture.

And then I screamed as I felt myself being dragged into the room behind me. I landed on the bed as the door slammed shut, leaving me in shadows and little light.

Laughter filled the room. Children's laughter.

"We get to play all the time now."

"Don't you like it?"

"She's winning now, but I bet you'll beat her!"

"That's why we chose you."

I pulled myself up on the bed as small hands started reaching out to me. I tried not to cry out at their cold clammy touches.

"We want to win again."

A tiny hand clamped onto my wrist and pulled me back down. I found myself staring into a pair of demonic yellow eyes that looked out of place on the little boy they belonged to. He didn't say a word. Little Eric Spencer just stared at me coldly. I grabbed his hand with my free hand and his eyes widened as he let out a howl of pain.

He let me go and stumbled back, the hand I'd grabbed was now smoking as tears streamed down his face. The laughter faded into whispers of shock and we stared at each other.

I didn't know what the hell just happened, but I didn't dare take my eyes off of him. Not now.

He wailed and pointed at me with his burnt hand. "You're a bad person. Just like _them_. Like _her_." His eyes were filled with a bitter hatred I'd never seen before. "When we win.. I'm gonna get you."

Just like that, he was gone.

The laughter and whispers were gone.

I was alone in the room again. I took a deep breath and looked down at my hands. What had I done to hurt..

My ring. Its eyes were glowing, but even as I stared with a slight hope that it was going to send me home, they dimmed. Whatever just happened, it had hurt him.

_It _did it.

I just wish I knew what it was it did. I shook my head and slid off the bed, heading back to the door. Air. Needed air. Those kids.. They were.. Oh god. Something made them this way. They should have been alive, playing in the park or even resting peacefully in the afterlife. Not this.. Just.. It wasn't right. Just.. They were children.

I swung the door open just in time to see Sam and Dean picking up the scattered papers on the sidewalk. The looked up at me with frowns on their faces and I nervously bit down on my bottom lip. God, I felt so cold from where they touched me.

"Is it normal for you to leave things all o-Oof!" Dean found himself stunned into silence I think. Maybe it was because I was now clinging on to him like a lifeline. "Most people need to breathe."

Only if you weren't one of the bad guys, Mr. Winchester. Because then all you needed was someone to slowly drive mad.

I think they were doing a good job on me.


End file.
